


Take a Chance

by DominusMortis



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Draco Malfoy Has a Twin, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Good Friends, Growing Relationships, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, PTSD, Sectumpsempra scene rewritten, Swearing, War, eighth year, scared children, switching POVs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-14 15:20:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 60,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28547781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DominusMortis/pseuds/DominusMortis
Summary: What if Draco Malfoy had a twin who asked Harry Potter for help after that crucial moment in the bathroom in sixth year?Draco and Lyra were only trying to survive when the impossible was forced upon them. Can they overcome all they've been taught to save themselves or will they crumble under the pressure?
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 8
Kudos: 121





	1. Chapter One - The Bathroom

**Author's Note:**

> This is my reimagination of how the bathroom scene could have gone differently had Draco had someone else to share that burden of his mission with. I've always liked the idea of Draco having a female companion, whether it be a sister or friend, so I hope you enjoy my fic! 
> 
> It spans across sixth and seventh year, with a particular focus on eighth year and what comes after. Explicit sexual content in later chapter. Warnings were added because of reference to the terror that Draco (and Lyra) likely went though at the Manor under Voldemort's rule but I tried not to make it too intense. 
> 
> Enjoy xx

“I can’t do it – I can’t do it,” sobbed Draco, knuckles white against the dark stone of the sink. His white-blond hair was disheveled across his forehead and his face was pale – paler than usual. His red-tinged eyes met his sister’s matching grey ones in the mirror. “I can’t do it, Lyra,” he whispered brokenly.

Lyra remained silent beside him, hot tears streaming down her own face. Her stance matched that of her twin’s as they stood in the deserted bathroom.

“We don’t have any choice,” she whispered, her words quiet enough that Draco nearly missed them. “What can we do?”

Lyra glanced up helplessly at her brother and couldn’t stop the sob that wracked through her body. Draco pulled her against him as the strength left her muscles. Their shuddering breaths echoed throughout the surrounding silence, a cacophony of sorrow etching deeper into their hearts.

Draco looked into the mirror and froze. A familiar pair of emerald eyes were staring back at him from the doorway.

Lyra gasped as Draco moved, standing up straight and pushing her behind him.

“What do you want, Potter?” Draco hissed, barely able to draw enough breath to get the venom-filled words out.

“Are – are you okay?” Potter asked hesitantly.

“It’s none of your business! Leave us alone!” Draco shouted, drawing his wand.

“Draco, no – “ Lyra hiccupped, stepping forward.

But Potter had already instinctually drawn his wand, green eyes wide with confusion.

Draco stiffened, eyes darting widely. His fear finally got the better of him and he shot a spell toward Potter, who dodged at the last minute and fired back, his spell shattering the mirror behind Draco.

Lyra screamed at them to stop but they didn’t listen, spells flying around the bathroom and ricocheting against the walls and cubicles.

“ _Cruc -_!” Draco began.

“ _Sectumsempra!”_ shouted Potter. A blast of white light flew from the end of the boy’s wand and hit Draco directly in the chest, causing him to fall to the ground, blood flowing from his chest as if sliced with a sword.

“ _NOOOO!_ ” Lyra shrieked, dropping to her knees beside her brother.

She heard Potter’s strangled gasp and saw him drop beside her, hands reaching out as if to push the blood back into Draco’s body.

“I didn’t mean – “ Potter gasped. “I didn’t know – “

Lyra screamed for help, the words bouncing around the cavernous room like the spells that had been flying minutes previously. Tears streamed rapidly down her face as she and Potter held their hands tightly over Draco’s mangled torso.

“Draco – _Draco­ –_ “ Lyra wept.

Suddenly both she and Potter were swept aside. Professor Snape knelt down near the fallen boy and began muttering an incantation over his chest. As he waited for the spell to work, the Professor barked some orders at Potter, who raced from the room, returning a few minutes later out of breath, and clutching a book to his chest.

Lyra barely paid them any attention, her focus instead on her brother, whose face had gained back some colour after Snape’s spell. His breathing was ragged and he was drifting in and out of unconsciousness.

“We need to get him to the Hospital Wing,” Professor Snape snapped. “Both of you – help me.”

Potter and Snape both raised their wands to levitate Draco’s prone body. Lyra tried but her hand was shaking too much to maintain the spell. Instead, she grabbed their bags from where they had discarded them upon entering the bathroom and followed the trio quickly through the halls.

Luckily, it was still class time, which meant that they didn’t pass any students in the halls.

They burst through the Hospital Wing’s doors, Madam Pomfrey already waiting near a bed and holding her wand aloft. She immediately began treating Draco while Professor Snape whirled toward Potter, eyes flashing dangerously.

“Detention, Potter – every Saturday until the end of the year. And fifty points from Gryffindor,” Professor Snape barked. “I’ll be talking to Professor McGonagall about a more severe punishment.”

Snape turned, expression softening slightly as he took in Lyra’s distraught state.

“Miss Malfoy – Lyra – “ he began.

“We can’t do it, Severus,” she agonised. “We _can’t_ – It’s suicide.”

Fresh tears washed down her face.

“We want out. Please, _please_ help us.”

Her godfather’s face tightened and he stepped forward, pulling the crying girl close.

“ _Do not speak of that here_ ,” he hissed quietly. He took a step back, releasing Lyra. “I will come find you in your common room tomorrow.”

With that, Professor Snape spun around, his black robes flaring as he quickly exited the Hospital Wing.

Lyra stood there shivering from fear and cold until she felt something heavy drape over her shoulders.

“I’m so sorry,” Potter said, green eyes staring earnestly at her. “I had no idea what that spell would do. If I had known, I never would have used it.” Potter turned to look at Draco’s prone body, face paling. “I – I need you to believe me,” he stuttered, “I never wanted to – “

“Potter, stop,” Lyra interrupted. Her voice was dull and flat, all the emotion draining out of her like her brother’s blood had. “You made a mistake. A stupid mistake that nearly cost my brother his life – but a mistake none the less.”

She turned toward the dark-haired boy who flinched at her words. He opened his mouth to reply but was cut off by Madam Pomfrey.

“He will make a full recovery,” the matron stated, directing her words primarily to Lyra. “He needs to rest now and probably won’t wake up until tomorrow. You should both return to your common rooms.”

“Will there be any scarring?” Lyra asked quietly.

Madam Pomfrey frowned slightly, glancing toward Draco’s pale chest which was covered by the white sheets of the bed.

“I believe so,” she finally stated. “Curse scars are harder to get rid of than others,” she continued, eyes darting to Potter, whose face went even paler. “Now, I need you both to leave. You can come back and visit your brother tomorrow, Miss Malfoy.”

Lyra nodded and left slowly, shock making her movements stiff.

“Wait – Malf – _Lyra_ – “ Potter called, hurrying down the hallway toward her. He had his hand reaching out in front of him as if he were about to rest it on her shoulder, but obviously thought better of it and awkwardly retracted it.

“When you said – “ he started, coughing in embarrassment. “When you said you wanted out, what did you mean?” he finished, eyes bright and expression open.

Lyra stared at him, long enough for him to begin to shuffle his feet in discomfort.

“Take me to your common room,” she said suddenly, causing the other boy’s head to shoot up and look at her in surprise.

“What?”

“Take me to your common room,” she repeated, too drained to care that she sounded rude and demanding. “I won’t – _can’t_ – tell you out here. I’ll tell you everything somewhere private,” she stared at him evenly, “And preferably somewhere warmer, considering that you and Draco decided to destroy the bathroom and consequently flood it,” she added, ignoring Potter’s flinch at the reminder of his fight.

He glanced around the hallway, as if searching for another possible option.

Lyra shook her head and began to turn away to head back to her own common room.

“Wait,” Potter said, resting a hand on her arm gently. She turned back and pointedly stared at his hand. He withdrew it quickly. “Okay – I’ll take you to the common room. Come on.”

***

Harry stared at Lyra Malfoy in horror. He had been doing it for the past few minutes since she finished her story and was sure that the blonde girl was starting to get annoyed with him. The warmth of the fire had brought some colour back to her pale face and her grey eyes glimmered brightly in the firelight. Grey eyes that were currently fixed on him in barely concealed disapproval.

“Are you going to say anything or just continue to gape at me like a simpleton?”

The harsh words failed to penetrate the fog in Harry’s mind as he continued to turn over what he had learned.

Lyra and Draco had been tasked to kill Dumbledore – tasked by _Voldemort_. Lyra had confessed to it all: the necklace which had cursed Katie, the poisoned mead that Ron had drunk. She and Draco had been trying all year to appear as if they were making progress whilst in reality, were slowly destroying themselves.

“ _Potter!_ ” Lyra snapped, clicking her fingers under his nose.

He jerked in his seat and glared at her.

“I was _thinking_ – there’s no need to be rude,” he grumbled, slouching back and running a hand through his hair.

Lyra scoffed and leaned further into the cushions of the couch she had commandeered. “Well, it looked like a painful process so I thought I ought to rescue you from your suffering.”

“What are you going to do now?” Harry asked.

Lyra immediately sobered and glowered at the raven-haired boy.

“That’s what you were meant to help me with,” she drawled. “Why else would I bare all my brother’s and my misgivings?”

Harry took a deep breath and pinched his nose, reminding himself that she had sought out his help even though he had just landed her brother in the infirmary. The thought made his stomach churn uncomfortably.

“What am I supposed to do?” he asked instead, making sure to keep his voice even.

“I don’t know!” Lyra said, throwing her hands in the air. “You tell me. You’re the _Chosen One_ , oh, Saint Potter or whatever the fuck they call you – I was so sure your immense Gryffindorness would at least mean you’d have an _idea_ of what we could do but obviously I was wrong. Looks like all you’re good for is landing brothers in the Hospital Wing with slashed up chests!”

Her words rung loudly in the empty common room and caused Harry to flinch, shame coursing through his body.

Tense silence reigned until Lyra sighed deeply, causing Harry to look in her direction.

“I’m sorry. That was cruel.”

Harry stared at her in shock at the apology. He had never been apologised to by a Slytherin – let alone a _Malfoy_.

“I just don’t know what to do,” Lyra’s voice was incredibly small, her body curling around herself as if to hide away forever.

Harry sighed deeply.

“I think we need to talk to Dumbledore,” he said.

“Dumbledore,” Lyra replied flatly. “You want me to go to the man that I am supposed to _kill_ and ask for help?”

“Yeah,” Harry shrugged, “Why not?”

Lyra muttered something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like “ _fucking Gryffindors_ ” but just heaved a great sigh, nodding slightly in his direction.

“By all means, Potter – I’m already in the lion’s den, you might as well offer me up to the pride leader.”

***

“When is he going to wake up?”

Lyra stared at Madam Pomfrey as she puttered around Draco’s bed, picking up and replacing various potions and ointments.

The matron glanced sharply over at the fair-haired girl. “There were some complications when he awoke briefly. Professor Snape said that due to how weak Mr Malfoy was before the curse, it was affecting his body more severely than originally thought. He was given a more concentrated healing sleep potion but it should wear off sometime this afternoon.”

Lyra nodded but frowned at the mention of Draco’s weak state. They both had been skipping meals and sleep recently trying to fix the Vanishing Cabinet – and as a result, they had lost weight and had permanent dark circles under their eyes.

“That reminds me,” Madam Pomfrey stated suddenly, causing Lyra to sit up straighter in the chair beside Draco’s bed. The matron pushed a small bag of potions into her hands. “Take one of these every day at dinner – it’ll help increase your nutritional levels. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

Lyra nodded slightly and eyed the green potions warily. She knew that they were going to attract a lot of questions from her fellow Slytherins but couldn’t bring herself to care.

The events of the past few days flashed through her mind; from her conversation with Potter – _Harry_ he had insisted, which she had promptly ignored – to the realisation of the looming conversation with Dumbledore scheduled for tomorrow evening. Potter had somehow managed to talk to the Headmaster yesterday during lunch and had cornered Lyra at dinner to tell her of his plans.

“You just have to tell him what you told me,” he had said, grinning from ear to ear despite the fierce glares he was getting from the surrounding Slytherins.

“You make it sound so easy,” Lyra had drawled, shuddering slightly. “I have no idea how you can be so entirely optimistic.”

Harry had simply smirked back. “I guess it’s just my overwhelming _Gryffindorness_.”

Lyra snapped back to reality when Madam Pomfrey shooed her from the ward, claiming that Draco wasn’t going to wake up for hours and that Lyra had no reason to sit there moping.

Slightly, disgruntled, Lyra left and headed toward the Great Hall where lunch was beginning.

“Potter!”

The dark-haired boy turned around quickly at Lyra’s shout, eyes darting across the entrance hall to locate her. She glided through the crowd, coming to a stop in front of the three Gryffindors. Granger was watching Lyra with a shrewd expression, whilst Weasley was outright glaring.

“Come on, Harry,” Weasley snapped. “I don’t even know why you bother to talk to her.” He grabbed Potter’s arm and tried to pull him toward the Great Hall but Potter resisted, tugging on his arm until Weasley released it with a confused look.

“Down, puppy,” Lyra said with a smirk.

Weasley’s face turned an unattractive shade of red which clashed horribly with his hair. His face twisted into a snarl but before he could step forward, Granger and Potter both grabbed one of his arms.

“Lyra…” Potter warned.

“ _Fine_ ,” sighed Lyra. She turned back to Weasley. “Apologies Weasley, I do _not_ in fact believe you to be a dog.”

She turned back to Potter with a raised eyebrow.

“You and I need to have a talk,” she stated, leaving no room for argument.

Potter nodded with a hesitant glance toward his friends.

“Oh for Merlin’s sake,” scoffed Lyra, “You can bring them with you if you must. We just need to talk, _now_.”

She spun around and left the hall, pushing through the giant double doors and out onto the grounds. She didn’t bother to check that the others were following before making her way toward the lake and the large tree that she and Draco liked to study under.

The weather had begun to get warmer heading into Spring and the sky was a clear blue – a beautiful day to have the conversation Lyra was dreading. Her face twisted into a scowl at the thought of what she had to ask and her mood plummeted as she sat beneath the tree.

The three Gryffindors finally reached her; Potter sitting down immediately in front of her while the other two awkwardly shuffled behind him. He gave them a pointed glance until they sighed, settling down on either side of him.

“ _Wonderful_ ,” drawled Lyra. “Now that the entire gang is together – “

“Lyra, what do you need to talk about?” Potter interrupted, ignoring the glare Lyra sent his way. “You said it was urgent.”

She glared evenly at him. “It _is_ urgent, _Harry_ ,” she said, purposefully emphasising his first name. she sighed and leant back against the cool bark of the tree. “I just came from the Hospital Wing and it turns out that Draco’s recovery was not as simple as Madam Pomfrey originally thought,” she paused and shot a pointed look towards the other Gryffindors. “I am guessing that you told them?” she asked Potter.

Potter, unexpectedly, blushed a deep red. He scratched the back of his neck as he avoided the accusatory looks his friends were giving him.

“I – erm – _haven’t_ ,” he muttered. “I didn’t think it was my place.”

Lyra raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “You _didn’t think it was your place_ to explain to _your_ friends how you landed my brother in the Hospital Wing and the consequential conversation we had?”

“Erm….yeah?” Potter said weakly.

“Unbelievable,” Lyra declared. “Completely _unbelievable_.”

“What do you mean that he landed your brother in the Hospital Wing?” Granger interjected.

Lyra turned her gaze toward the brunette and sighed. “Potter walked in on Draco and I having a complete emotional breakdown and proceeded to duel with my brother – whom, I might add, is notably guilty for his actions as well – and one thing led to another and Draco ended up in the Hospital Wing.”

Granger looked sharply at Potter. “Harry, why didn’t you tell us?”

Potter opened and closed his mouth a few times before shrugging. “I was – erm – embarrassed and I didn’t know how to tell you,” he admitted.

“But what about the conversation you mentioned?” Granger continued, directing her question toward Lyra.

“See, now this is where it gets fun,” Lyra said sarcastically. She briefly outlined what she had told Potter two days ago and watched in amusement as the Gryffindor sidekicks reacted. Granger’s face flashed through shock, disbelief, anger to resigned acceptance, whilst Weasley’s turned purple in outrage.

“You poisoned me!” Weasley shouted at Lyra, glaring fiercely.

“Not _intentionally_ ,” Lyra muttered.

“Why are we even listening to her?” Weasley demanded to Potter. “She could be tricking us – they’re trying to _kill Dumbledore_!”

“Yes, Weasley, believe it or not, I _am_ aware of the task my brother and I have been given,” Lyra retorted drily. Potter’s face twitched into a slight smirk at her words but he quickly rearranged it when Weasley glared at him.

“Lyra asked me for help,” Potter stated. “She and Draco don’t want to keep trying to complete their task – they’ll die whether they finish it or not.”

“Why now?” Granger asked sharply.

Lyra kept eye contact with the girl while she responded. “Because two people already got hurt and the task is impossible,” she admitted. “We’re not _meant_ to survive.”

She looked at the three Gryffindors and sighed deeply.

“Look, I know Draco and I have been anything but _nice_ to you all throughout the years – and I’ll admit that Draco does have the habit of taking things a step too far – but you need to understand how much of a risk I am taking by asking you for help. Our mother is being held hostage as leverage. We couldn’t care less if we lived or died – we just want to keep our mother safe. But it’s too much – we can’t keep doing things to make it look like we’re actually trying because people, _innocent people_ , will get hurt and neither of us want that.” Lyra said all of this quite quickly and shut her mouth with a snap before she said too much and embarrassed herself.

She turned to look directly at Potter.

“The reason I needed to talk to you was because Draco and I will need protection at the end of the year,” she stated, watching as his eyes widened slightly. “You can’t expect us to go home after we renounce the Dark Lord and ignore his task.”

Potter, Granger and Weasley sat there in shock as they processed her words. Lyra ignored them and glared at the lake, regretting not grabbing something from the Great Hall before accosting the Gryffindors.

“What about Snape?” Potter asked finally. “You asked him for help.”

Lyra scoffed. “Snape can do fuck-all. If you haven’t forgotten, he’s a _Death Eater_. It was stupid of me to even mention it to him – he has a duty to report it to the Dark Lord. That just means that the news of our desertion will be revealed much earlier. That’s why I’m asking _you_ for help – you have the whole fucking Order of the Phoenix or whatever it’s called at your beck and call.”

She smirked at the shocked looks on the Gryffindor’s faces. “Yes, we know what that is – after the debacle at the Ministry last year, our dear father thought that he ought to educate us on the ‘ _futile resistance’_ as he called it.”

“So can you help us?” Lyra prodded. “Provide us a safe place to go to after school ends?”

Potter stared at the ground in deep thought. Lyra was surprised smoke didn’t start pouring out of his ears, judging from the intense look of concentration on his face – it almost looked painful.

“I know a place – ” Potter started.

“Harry, no!”

“Mate, you can’t actually be considering – “

“Stop!” Potter snapped at his friends, who immediately shut up in surprise. “She’s come to me for help, so I’ll help them.”

He turned back to Lyra, who was watching him with an expression of barely concealed shock on her face, and smirked.

“You didn’t think I’d actually help you, did you?” he asked.

Lyra’s lips curled into a half sneer.

“I have to talk to a few people,” Potter continued. “But I have a house, and it’s empty right now. You and Draco can stay there until everything is over – you’ll be safe.”

“Thank you, Potter,” Lyra said earnestly, the words feeling odd being directed to the boy.

“I already told you to call me Harry,” Potter – _Harry_ – replied sternly. “How on earth is Draco going to actually believe that we’ve come to an agreement if we don’t use our first names?”

Granger and Weasley were watching in stunned silence.

“I hate this, you know,” Lyra told Po – _Harry_.

“Don’t worry, Lyra, I’m sure you’ll survive,” Harry smirked.

“Are you the only Slytherins directly involved?” Granger asked suddenly.

“What?” Lyra asked in surprise.

“Are any of the other Slytherins meant to become Death Eaters?” Granger repeated.

“No,” Lyra said, “Draco and I were forced to as punishment for our father’s failure at the Ministry.”

Lyra ignored the Gryffindors’ winces at the mention of the Ministry and continued.

“However, there are a few students whose parents are either directly involved or will be expected to side with the Dark – _Voldemort_ ,” she stated, drawing surprised gasps at her use of the name.

“Who?” Harry asked.

“Pansy Parkinson and Theodore Nott – I know their fathers are Death Eaters; and erm…Blaise Zabini and Millicent Bulstrode. Their families are neutral but because they are friendly with the other pureblood families, they will be expected to support Voldemort’s regime,” said Lyra.

“I’ll offer them the same protection if they need it,” Harry stated.

“Mate, no – “ Weasley blurted. “Even Parkinson? She’s a right bitch.”

“Regardless of whether Pansy is a bitch or not – which she undoubtedly is – “ Lyra said sternly, “It does not mean she should be left to be roped into something she does not believe it.”

“You can’t expect us to suddenly welcome you all with open arms – you’ve treated us like shit for _years_ ,” Weasley fumed.

“I understand that, Weasley and I don’t expect you to,” Lyra stated evenly. “I only ask that you offer them the same opportunity you’re offering me. Most of their actions are purely facades put on to satisfy their families.”

“There’s no way that’s true,” argued Weasley.

“It _is_ ,” insisted Lyra. “Pansy may be a bitch in general but she’s always admired Granger’s talent and knowledge,” she admitted.

Granger’s brown eyes widened in shock.

“She knew she was expected to act a certain way, especially considering your blood status,” Lyra said. “And no – I do not mean that in a negative way,” she added, interrupting Weasley’s outraged comment. “I admit that I care less about blood status than my brother and definitely less than my father, but it is still something that has been taught to us since we first opened our eyes – it’s ingrained in us all since birth – you can’t expect someone to just suddenly decide differently based on experience.”

“It’s not sudden,” Granger argued. “You’ve known me for six years and all of you have still been horrible.”

“We’re _expected_ to, Granger!” Lyra sighed in exasperation. “How would have you reacted if we had suddenly come up and complimented you on the number of O.W.L.S you had gotten? You wouldn’t have believed us to be sincere. Not to mention, our fathers would have had an absolute coronary.”

Granger nodded in acceptance.

“You might as well call me Hermione, if you’re calling Harry by his first name,” Granger stated, staring evenly at Lyra, who blinked in surprise.

“Er – thank you, _Hermione_ ,” she said haltingly. She turned to Weasley with a panicked expression. “Please don’t make me call you Ronald, I don’t think I physically could.”

Weasley’s face scrunched up in disgust. “No way, it’s too weird. I’ll accept that you want to change and need help but you’re still a cold-hearted bitch and your brother is a bigoted bastard.”

“Aw, thank you, Weasley, that’s so sweet,” Lyra grinned. “But Draco isn’t as bigoted as you believe he is.”

“What do you mean by that?” Weasley asked sharply.

Lyra merely shrugged and smirked. “I’ll let you figure that one out for yourself.”

The bell rang for the end of lunch.

“Aw, fuck,” Lyra cursed. “I can’t believe I missed the entire lunch – now I’m going to be grumpy during Charms.”

“You could stop by the kitchens and grab something?” Harry suggested.

Lyra looked at him aghast. “And what? Be _late_ to Charms?” she scoffed. “Ridiculous.”

Hermione beamed at Lyra. “I feel like I may actually be able to come to like you, Lyra.”

“That is very high praise indeed, Hermione,” Lyra replied with a slight smile. “Well, might as well head to class before we lose points for being tardy.”

***

“Miss Malfoy.”

Madam Pomfrey’s voice broke through Lyra’s thoughts and her head shot up from where it had been resting on the desk. She directed her attention to the front of the classroom where the matron was standing beside Professor Flitwick, a worried expression on her face.

“Yes?” Lyra asked tentatively.

“Your brother is awake,” Madam Pomfrey replied. She hesitated for a moment before adding, “I need you to come with me.”

Lyra stood quickly, jamming her parchment and quills into her bag. She made eye contact with Harry across the classroom, his green eyes worried.

Lyra quickly followed the nurse to the Hospital Wing where she found Draco sitting up in bed, a tense expression on his face. Professors Snape, McGonagall and Dumbledore stood at the end of this bed.

“Ah, Lyra, excellent,” Professor Dumbledore said in welcome. “If you would please join your brother…”

Lyra jumped up beside Draco on the bed. He wrapped an arm around her in greeting, shooting her a confused look. She shrugged and turned back to the Professors.

“Now, Professor Snape has informed us of how this injury came about,” Professor Dumbledore began. “He also has informed us of your request, Lyra.” Dumbledore held up at hand as Lyra’s mouth opened to reply. “Steps are being taken to ensure your safety and your mother’s safety.”

Draco sat up straighter in confusion. “What do you mean, our safety? What did you tell them, Ly?”

“Miss Malfoy has revealed that you both want to free yourselves of the task you have been forced to complete by Voldemort,” Dumbledore stated calmly.

Draco’s mouth fell open and he gaped at the Headmaster for a few seconds before pulling himself together. He turned to Lyra and hissed, “And you didn’t think to talk to me about this first?”

“You were lying unconscious in a hospital bed after nearly bleeding to death,” she hissed in reply. “I did what I had to.”

“Indeed, Mr Malfoy. Your sister was brave to speak up when she did,” Professor Dumbledore said. “However, the issue remains of your task. Voldemort will not be pleased to find out that you have decided to renounce him. Therefore, it is imperative that you tell us what you were planning so that we may take the necessary steps to ensure it is not completed by another of Voldemort’s followers.”

Lyra and Draco glanced at each other before shooting Professor Snape an uncertain look.

Professor Dumbledore sighed slightly. “Professor Snape is working with me to provide the Order with the necessary information to allow us to fight against Voldemort.”

“You mean he’s a spy?” Draco said, glancing warily at his Potions Professor.

“Yes, Draco, he is a spy,” Dumbledore agreed.

“How come he’s been trying to help us all year, then?” Lyra asked.

“I made an Unbreakable Vow with your mother to ensure your safety,” Professor Snape answered softly.

Lyra and Draco looked at each other in surprise but didn’t reply. They had a silent conversation that went slightly like this:

_Draco: Do you think we can trust him?_

_Lyra: I’m not sure. If he’d made a Vow then he has to help us however he can._

_Draco: But what if he just runs to Voldemort? And mother gets hurt?_

_Lyra: …I think that’s a risk we have to take._

“Okay, we’ll tell you,” Lyra stated, Draco nodding along beside her.

They spent the next two hours detailing their exact plans and progress throughout the year. Once they had finished, Professor Dumbledore sent Professors Snape and McGonagall to examine the Vanishing Cabinets in the Room of Requirement.

“Professor,” Lyra began hesitantly, “I’ve been talking with Po – _Harry_ and he said he had spoken to you yesterday about this.”

“Indeed he did. Harry came to me and asked me to help you both,” Dumbledore said.

“Well, I spoke with him again today and asked about protection when school ends and he said he has a place we can stay,” Lyra stated, ignoring Draco’s incredulous look.

“Ah yes, I believe we were meant to discuss this tomorrow,” Professor Dumbledore sighed. “I will be talking to members of the Order to organise the transport of your mother to a safe location – once school finishes, you and Draco will both go there with her.”

Lyra nodded in thanks and looked back at Draco, who was now opening gaping at her.

“I believe I will leave you two alone, I think you have much to discuss,” Dumbledore said, blue eyes twinkling behind his half-moon glasses. “I will contact you both when I have more to tell you.”

The Headmaster left the Hospital Wing as Madam Pomfrey bustled over.

“Drink this, dear,” she said, shoving a purple potion into Draco’s hands. “It’ll help with the residual scarring.”

Draco nodded and downed the potion with a grimace.

“Good, now rest. I expect you to stay here until dinner. You have been excused from class for the remainder of the day, Miss Malfoy,” stated the nurse before she walked away, muttering about teenage recklessness and insufficient patience.

“So are you going to explain to me what the fuck you’ve been doing the past few days?” Draco demanded, his grey eyes flashing.

Lyra sighed and summarised the events of the last two days and watched in amusement as Draco’s face morphed into disbelief.

“There is no way that _Harry Potter_ agreed to help us,” Draco stated once she had finished.

Lyra glanced up from her spot on his pillow.

“He actually feels extremely guilty about what he did,” she said. “But trust me, I still can’t believe it and _I_ was there.”

“He tried to curse me!” Draco exclaimed, waving his hand, and narrowly missing hitting his sister.

She just glared pointedly at him. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten what curse _you_ were about to cast,” she threatened. “It was completely idiotic!”

“I was just scared,” he muttered quietly, fingers picking at the edge of the blanket.

Lyra’s glare softened. “I know, Draco, we both were. But Harry does want to help.”

“Do you know how weird it is to hear you use Potter’s first name?” Draco said, nose scrunching up slightly.

“Oh, I know,” Lyra said, shuddering. “He’s demanded I use it so that we can prove we’re civil to each other. Granger even asked that I call her Hermione.”

“ _Granger_ asked that?” Draco said incredulously.

“Yep.”

“Please tell me we don’t have to call the Weasel by his first name,” Draco begged.

“Thankfully, no. He found the idea just as revolting and uncomfortable,” Lyra admitted, glancing at the clock on the far wall. “Come on, it’s nearly dinner time and the others are worried about you.”

She pulled her brother off the bed and handed him a pile of clean clothes the elves had left him.

Once changed, the pair left the Hospital Wing, only to bump directly into Harry.

“I – erm – well – “ Harry stuttered, blushing a bright pink. “I was going to see if you were okay,” he finally said. “I wanted to apologise.”

Draco’s eyes widened comically and he held up a hand. “Potter, Lyra has already explained the truce she has made with you and your Gryffindors. Don’t feel like you need to say anything else.”

Harry straightened and glared slightly at Draco.

“I owe you an apology. It was stupid to use a spell I didn’t know. You could have died and it would have been my fault,” Harry said determinedly, staring at Draco as if daring him to argue.

Lyra elbowed her brother and pointedly looked at Harry, raising an eyebrow.

Draco heaved a great sigh and muttered, “I, too, am sorry for the curse I nearly sent your way and I forgive you for your lack of consideration regarding your spell choice.”

Lyra snorted as Harry stood in shock looking like a bludger had hit him in the back of the head.

“Um – thank you?” he said uncertainly.

“Well,” Lyra announced, clapping her hands together once. “Now that that is over, who’s hungry?”

She didn’t wait for an answer and instead grabbed each boy by the arm and began leading them toward the Great Hall.

“Just so you know, Harry,” she said suddenly, “Draco’s spell wouldn’t have worked.”

“What?” asked Harry.

Lyra ignored Draco’s hissed, ” _Shut up”_ , and repeated herself, “Draco’s spell wouldn’t have worked. You have to really intend to harm the other person – you would have barely felt a tickle.”

She smirked as Draco flushed bright red and glared at her, avoiding Harry’s shocked expression.

“Splendid!” She said brightly. “I hope there’s ice cream.”

***

Harry left them as they arrived at the Great Hall, veering toward the Gryffindor table as Lyra and Draco headed toward the Slytherin table.

Whispers followed the pair but they ignored them, falling heavily into the seats opposite Pansy and Blaise.

“Draco, thank Merlin!” Pansy exclaimed, lunging over the table to wrap Draco in a tight hug.

He spluttered and attempted to escape from her grip while Blaise and Lyra laughed at them.

“Pansy, enough!” He shouted, successfully extracting himself from the other girl. He patted his hair back into place before beginning to fill his plate.

“I’m just so relieved you’re okay,” Pansy said. “Lyra wouldn’t tell us anything except that you were in the Hospital Wing. She returned in such a horrid state on Tuesday, we were so worried.”

Draco glanced at his sister, who just shrugged and shoveled food into her mouth in avoidance.

“Is it true Potter attacked you?” Blaise asked.

“Yes,” Draco said, eyes darting over Blaise’s shoulder toward the Gryffindor table on the other side of the room. “But it was mutual.”

Blaise and Pansy looked shocked.

“You’re defending _Potter_ ,” Pansy stated in disbelief. “What on earth happened?”

“I asked him for help,” Lyra admitted quietly, glancing at her friends.

They both paled slightly, noticeable on their darker complexions.

“You did _what_?” Pansy hissed, eyeing the occupants of the table around them.

“I asked him for help,” repeated Lyra. “And he agreed to provide it. We’re civil now,” she added, a slight sneer curling her lips at the ridiculousness of the idea.

“You. Civil. With _Potter_ ,” said Pansy.

“Yep,” Lyra agreed.

“Although he seems to be _Harry_ now,” Draco added slyly.

Pansy sat back, stunned into silence.

“Does Snape know?” Blaise said, glancing toward the teacher’s table where their Head of House sat, glowering out at the students.

“Yep,” said Lyra, following his gaze and catching Snape’s eye. The Professor glared at her before looking away, directing his attention toward the Gryffindor table, a sneer upon his lips.

“ _Shit_ …” muttered Blaise. “So, it’s serious?”

“It’s serious,” Draco confirmed.

“We won’t be going home at the end of the year,” Lyra continued. “Dumbledore is going to try to help move our mother to somewhere safe. Harry also said he was willing to help protect you guys and Theo and Millie if you needed it.”

“ _Bullshit!_ ” Pansy shouted loudly, heads swiveling toward her.

“Five points from Slytherin for your language, Miss Parkinson,” Snape snapped from the head table, scowling darkly.

“Sorry Professor!” Pansy shouted back, not sounding sorry at all. “You can’t be serious,” she said, lowering her voice, causing all of them to lean close to her to hear her words. “Potter would never offer to protect _Slytherins_.”

“Yes, I would.”

The four of them jumped as a voice sounded above them.

Harry stood behind them, staring defiantly at Pansy.

“What the _fuck_ are you doing, Potter?” Lyra hissed, pulling him into the space between her and Draco. “You can’t just waltz over to our table!”

“Well I did,” he said, ignoring the dirty looks he was getting from the other houses. “Judging from Pansy’s outburst, she doesn’t believe my offer was sincere. I’m here to rectify that.”

“Wow, _rectify_ – did Granger get you a thesaurus for Christmas, Potter?” Lyra smirked.

Harry smirked in return. “Believe it or not, she did a few years ago. I can’t promise that I’ve actually read it, though.”

“That would infer that you could _read_ ,” Draco added with a sneer.

Pansy and Blaise watched on in shock.

“Blaise, pinch me, I think I’m hallucinating,” Pansy said weakly.

Blaise reached up and pinched her arm.

“Ouch!” she shrieked. “You dick! I didn’t _mean_ it!”

“Well, at least you know you’re not going crazy,” he said, shrugging. “So, Potter,” he began, ignoring the dirty look Pansy was sending him. “What’s all this I hear about protection?”

Harry glanced around the table before speaking, his voice low. “I was serious when I told Lyra I would help you. I have a place you can stay and as Lyra put it so eloquently, I apparently have “the entire fucking Order at my beck and call”, so accept it or not, the offer is there,” he said, using finger quotations to emphasise his words.

“Well,” Blaise drawled, “It seems that all we needed was a little Gryffindor intervention. You must be delighted, Draco.”

“Shut up, Blaise,” Draco hissed.

Blaise shrugged and turned back to Harry.

“Tell me about yourself, _Harry_ ,” he said, a flirtatious smile gracing his beautiful features.

“Leave the poor boy alone, Blaise,” Lyra scolded. “Don’t mind him, Harry, he flirts with anything that walks,” she added, turning toward the flustered boy.

“And yet he still remains alone,” Pansy teased.

“Says you,” Blaise retorted, flirty atmosphere dissipating. “When was the last time you got any action that didn’t involve your own hand?”

“Blaise, darling, I should be asking you that question,” Pansy sniped back gleefully. “You know I’m not ashamed of my own talents.”

Harry made a choked sound and reached for the goblet of pumpkin juice Lyra offered.

“What? Are you Gryffindors not as open about these conversations?” Pansy asked innocently, her lips pulling into a smile that could only be defined as predatory.

“Erm…no…” Harry muttered, looking as if he wished he had never come over in the first place.

“Relax, Potter,” Draco drawled. “The more uncomfortable you are, the worse they’ll get.”

“Besides, everyone knows they’re just dancing around each other,” Lyra added with an evil smirk. “Draco and I have a bet for when they’ll finally give in and fall into bed with each other.”

Pansy squawked in outrage while Blaise choked on his mouthful of food.

“You are horrendous, Lyra,” Blaise croaked, gulping down water. “Why we are even friends with you, I have no idea.”

“It’s because you love me and couldn’t imagine your life without me,” Lyra stated, smiling. “Look at all the entertainment I provide for you. Example A,” she added, gesturing toward Harry.

The group burst into laughter that attracted the attention of the surrounding students.

“I believe our lives are just going to continue to get more _entertaining_ ,” Pansy muttered, glaring at the students watching them.

“Well, it’s a good thing you thrive on drama, isn’t it?” Lyra smirked, happily turning back to her own meal.


	2. Chapter Two - The Agreement

“Absolutely not.”

“Come on, Lyra, it makes sense – “

“I’m revoking your right to call me that, it’s officially back to Malfoy now.”

“Seriously? Lyra – “

Lyra raised her eyebrows at Harry, who scowled and crossed his arms.

“Fine – but if you have a better idea, I’d love to hear it,” Harry snapped.

Lyra met his glower with a fierce one of her own, refusing to back down even when he towered over her.

“Draco and I will _not_ spend two weeks at that – that _hovel_ ,” she hissed, venom filling her tone.

Harry’s green eyes filled with fire and he clenched his fists tightly at his sides. “Don’t call it that!”

“I don’t know why you think they’d suddenly just _accept us_ \- ?” Lyra started, but Harry cut her off.

“Oh, I don’t know – maybe because you’re being forced against your _will_?” Harry said sarcastically. “Sorry that some people’s parents actually have hearts!”

Lyra drew up short and stilled. Harry’s eyes widened in shock as he realised what he’d said.

“I – I’m sorry,” he stuttered. “I didn’t – I didn’t mean that – “

Lyra raised a hand to silence him. Her voice was quiet as she said, “I don’t know why I thought this would work. There’s just too much bad history between us.” She ignored Harry as he tried to reach out for her, turning around and walking down the empty corridor. “Draco and I will figure something else out, Potter.”

“Lyra – wait – “

But Lyra kept walking, furious with herself.

 _Of fucking course Potter would be no help_ , she thought savagely, stalking down the corridor. It wasn’t until she reached the entrance hall that she realised she didn’t really have any other options.

“Fuck!” she muttered, kicking the nearest wall.

“Something wrong, darling?” 

Lyra looked up and scowled at Blaise’s smirking face.

“Fuck off, Zabini,” she groaned, shooting a spell to soothe her throbbing foot.

Blaise’s smirk dropped and a look of concern overtook his handsome features.

“What happened, Lyra?” he asked.

She sighed and leant back against the wall and a second later, Blaise joined her.

“Potter thinks it will be safer for Draco and me to go to the Weasley’s stronghold for the holidays rather than stay at Hogwarts,” Lyra admitted.

“Shit, really?” Blaise said, turning sharply to face her. “I’m guessing that conversation didn’t go too well.”

Lyra nodded and sighed. “I told him to piss off.”

“Typical.”

“Can you blame me?” she said hotly. “It would be practically offering us up to be flayed alive!”

“Surely Potter wouldn’t – “ Blaise started.

“It’s not Potter I’m worried about,” Lyra interrupted. “It’s the rest of the Weasleys. Blaise, we put their son in the hospital wing – he nearly died because of us! And we’ve tormented their family for years.”

“Your father has tormented them,” Blaise said calmly, dark eyes locking onto hers. “I believe they may be more inclined to forgive if you didn’t bite the head off of the one person who is willing to assist you.”

Lyra glared at him but he remained unflustered.

“I’m serious, Lyra,” Blaise continued. “Don’t be so quick to dismiss the help offered just because of what’s happened in the past. Besides, Weasley has already forgiven you.”

“It surely won’t be that easy, Blaise – “

“Nonsense,” Blaise said, waving a hand in front of them. “You and Draco have always been too pessimistic.”

“Says you,” Lyra muttered under her breath.

“Now, now, darling, be kind,” chided Blaise. “Go find Potter and tell him you’ll take his offer.”

“I wasn’t exactly _kind_ when I left…” Lyra murmured.

“Fear not, you’re never kind,” Blaise said dismissively. “Luckily for you, Potter is a Gryffindor.” He nodded his head toward the marble staircase and Lyra followed his gaze to see Potter frantically walking toward them.

“Have fun, darling,” Blaise said lightly, leaning down to kiss her cheek before smirking in goodbye, disappearing into the dungeons.

“Lyra!” Potter shouted. Heads turned toward the boy at his shout. Lyra noticed that a few groups of people were eying the two of them speculatively, bending closer to whisper into curious ears.

“Brilliant,” Lyra sighed quietly. Just what she needed: rumours about her and Potter spreading around the school.

“Lyra, I am so, _so_ sorry for what I said – “ Potter gasped as he stopped in front of her.

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake, Potter,” she snapped, grabbing his arm and dragging him away from all the curious eavesdroppers, “not _here_ , dammit!”

Potter let her lead him into a nearby empty classroom and after she had spelled the door locked and silent, she turned to face him, arms crossed over her chest.

“Lyra, I really shouldn’t have said that about your parents,” Potter said quickly, raising one hand to drag it through his riotous hair. “It was unfair and rude – “

“Potter.” Lyra raised a hand toward him.

“Yes?” Potter blinked at her in surprise.

“Shut up.”

Potter’s green eyes widened slightly but he thankfully closed his mouth.

“You don’t have to apologise,” Lyra said with a sigh. “I shouldn’t have dismissed the idea so quickly. And besides, it’s not as if you were wrong.”

“I still shouldn’t have – “

“Forget about that,” Lyra said dismissively. She drew her wand and transfigured a wooden chair into a comfortable wingback armchair. After a moment’s thought, she transfigured another one for Potter. “Whilst I believe that my reaction was rightly called for due to the, let’s say, _volatile_ history between the Weasleys and Malfoys – I should not have insulted them. For that, I apologise.”

Potter – no, _Harry_ – gaped at her in shock.

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake, close your mouth!” Lyra snapped.

“Sorry,” he replied, slightly sheepishly. He tilted his head toward her, watching her carefully. “So…you’ll come with us to the Burrow?”

Lyra sighed but nodded. “Yes,” she said. “You were right – we don’t have another option.”

“What about your father?” Harry asked suddenly.

“What about him?” she replied tersely.

“Won’t he wonder where you are if you’re not staying at Hogwarts?” he clarified.

“We’ll figure it out,” Lyra said shortly. “Don’t worry your pretty little head over it.”

Harry blushed a deep red but looked immensely pleased.

“Brilliant,” he said brightly. “I’ll let Ron know to tell his mum.”

“Spectacular,” Lyra said drily. “I’ll endeavour to remind Draco not to kill you when I tell him the news.”

“That would be most preferable,” Harry said, nodding.

Lyra mouthed ‘most preferable’ to herself slightly incredulously. “Right then,” she said aloud. “See you around, Potter.”

“Can’t you call me Harry again?” Harry pleaded.

“I have a reputation to uphold,” Lyra said with a smirk. “But we’ll see.”

With that, she swept gracefully from the room, wondering all the while why Harry seemed to perk up slightly at the mention of her brother.

***

Lyra was sitting with Draco beneath their tree near the lake when the Golden Trio approached them. Draco still looked slightly trepidatious at the knowledge that Gryffindors were willingly attempting to _befriend_ them.

“Chin up, Draco,” Lyra said, lying back onto his lap. “It’ll all be worth it in the end.”

“Yes, but it doesn’t make me wish it wasn’t necessary at all,” Draco muttered, threading on hand through Lyra’s loose hair.

They both watched calmly as the three Gryffindors finally reached them. Harry was in front, smiling sheepishly at them both while Granger and Weasley flanked him.

“Well, Potter,” Draco drawled, “whatever did we do to deserve the pleasure of your presence?”

Harry coughed and flushed slightly. He glanced at Granger, who nodded her head towards Lyra and Draco meaningfully. Lyra looked up and caught Draco’s eye, both of them raising one eyebrow.

“Well, I was wondering if we could join you?” Harry asked awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Lyra and Draco stared at him in stunned silence.

“You want to _join us_?” Lyra asked, sitting up and leaning back against Draco’s chest. “Whyever would you want to do that?”

“Well, Hermione thinks – “ Harry grunted slightly as Granger’s elbow stabbed him in the side. “Right – _I_ thought it would be a good idea if we…er… _you know_ …got to know one another better?” He glanced back at his friends, both of whom were looking slightly uncomfortable but determined. “I mean, we’re all allies now, right?”

“Right…” Draco said slowly, disbelief coating his tone as he stared at Harry.

Draco turned to Lyra and she shrugged. “Might as well,” she said.

“Very well,” Draco told the Gryffindors. “You may join us.”

“Great!” Harry said enthusiastically, plopping himself immediately down on the ground. “So what were you doing?” he asked as Granger and Weasley placed themselves opposite the twins.

“Well, we _were_ relaxing in the sunlight,” Lyra said with a smirk and Harry had the grace to look embarrassed. “Haven’t really had to opportunity to do so, considering the circumstances.”

Draco groaned quietly behind her and dropped his head back against the tree trunk. Lyra turned her smirk towards the other two-thirds of the Golden Trio.

“So Granger, Weasley, how are you taking this whole ‘Slytherin reformation’ that seems to be occurring?” she asked pleasantly.

Granger cleared her throat. “You can call me Hermione, you know,” she reminded Lyra. “I would actually prefer it if you did.”

“Old habits,” Lyra apologised, shrugging a shoulder.

“And I think that it’s wonderful that you and Draco won’t be in the precarious situation you were before,” Gra – Hermione continued. “No one should be forced to do what you were.”

“Indeed they shouldn’t,” agreed Lyra darkly. “And you, Weasley? What do you think? I can’t imagine you would be too pleased with the entire thing.”

“Honestly, Lyra, are you trying to get them to still hate us?” Draco hissed in her ear. She pinched his thigh in response.

Weasley, however, just shrugged. “I trust Harry,” he said. “And for some reason, Harry trusts you. Besides, you weren’t horrible last time we spoke.”

“More charming words have never been spoken,” Lyra said drily. “I do hope your numerous siblings feel the same.”

“Mum and Dad will deal with anyone who doesn’t,” Weasley said in a sure voice.

To their surprise, it was Hermione who initiated the next conversation.

“So, how are you finding the new Charms content?” she asked, glaring at Weasley and Harry when they both groaned in horror. “I’ve found it quite difficult to understand some of the new theory.”

“Well, lucky for you, Draco is a genius at Charms,” said Lyra as she subtly jabbed Draco with her elbow. “I’m would have failed for years without him.”

“That’s not true,” Draco argued. “You’re quite sufficient.”

“Regardless, you’ll help Hermione, won’t you, darling?” Lyra said, smiling sharply at her brother.

“I suppose…” Draco said with a sigh. “Granger – “

“Hermione,” said girl reminded pointedly.

Draco’s eyes tightened but he still corrected himself. “ _Hermione_ , what exactly were you having difficulty with?”

The conversation soon descended into a heated topic about the advanced uses of atmospheric charms and Lyra couldn’t help but notice that Draco seemed to be enjoying himself slightly. As for her and the other two boys, they began talking about the Quidditch League that was currently happening. To Lyra’s great consternation, Weasley was an avid supporter of the Chudley Cannons.

“I just can’t possibly comprehend how you are able to support that horrid team!” she exclaimed, waving her arms around and narrowly missing hitting her brother in the face. Draco glared at her but turned back to his conversation with Hermione, his grey eyes alight with interest. “Their team colour is orange, Weasley – _orange!”_

“They have spirit,” Weasley argued hotly. “I’m sure that with some better players, they’d do great.”

“At this rate, they’d need to replace the entire fucking team,” Lyra stated. She turned to Harry. “Potter, help me out! Surely, you have better taste than this.”

Harry look terrified for a moment before he said, “Er…well, I think Lyra is right, Ron. Even though Kepler is a good Chaser the others are a bit…well…”

“Stevenson isn’t so bad!” Weasley declared.

“He knocked himself out with his own bat last game!” Lyra said. “He’s a fumbling idiot! Even Crabbe and Goyle are better Beaters than he is.”

Weasley’s face turned a strange puce colour as he struggled with disagreeing with her. Luckily for him, a sudden amused voice saved him from replying.

“Lyra, leave the poor boy alone, I worry you may break him.”

Their group looked up to see Pansy and Blaise standing above them, both looking equal parts amused and bored.

“What are you doing here?” Draco asked, tearing himself away from his conversation.

“We wanted to see what was so attractive about Gryffindors,” Blaise answered shrewdly. “It would seem that while Slytherins got the elegance, Gryffindors got the _biceps_.”

“That’s generalising, Blaise,” Lyra chided. “Have you _seen_ , Finnigan?”

“Yes, but have you seen Miss _Ginevra?_ ” he counted, ignoring Weasley’s angry outburst. “That woman has biceps to rival Greg’s.” He turned to Weasley and blinked slowly. “I mean that as a compliment, Weasley. Don’t get your knickers in a twist.”

“I don’t have knickers you git!” Weasley exclaimed.

“Oh god, can we _please_ not talk about Ron’s knickers?” Harry bemoaned pitifully.

Blaise shrugged. “Your loss.”

“We actually wanted to talk to Potter,” Pansy said, picking her nails in disinterest.

“Yes?” Harry said hesitantly, throwing a confused glance at Draco and Lyra.

“Well, Blaise-y and I have been speaking with dear Millie and Theo, and we’ve come to a mutual consensus that it would be advantageous to us if we were to accept your overture of protection, if it is still obtainable?” Pansy stated flippantly, waving a manicured hand through the air. Despite her casual nature, Lyra could tell she was extremely nervous about the entire situation due to her use of overly complicated words. “Also, your positive endorsement of us will ensure that after this whole debacle is settled, people will have less distasteful sentiments regarding us.”

Harry blinked at the short girl in shock.

“Erm – um – yeah, it is – still – er – _obtainable_ , that is…” Harry said after Hermione elbowed him pointedly in the side.

“Lovely,” Pansy drawled. Lyra could see the relief sparking behind her dark eyes. “Whatever would we do without your good soul, Potter?”

“Er…”

“Don’t answer that, Harry,” Lyra assured. “She’s teasing.”

“Oh…okay…”

The poor boy looked so confused, which, admittedly, _did_ seem to be a near-constant state he was in.

“Oh, by the way, Lyra, Draco,” Blaise said suddenly. “Millie and Theo wish to speak to you both about this. We’ll be meeting in our dorm after dinner.”

“Very well,” Draco agreed, lying down to rest on the ground.

Pansy rolled her eyes before tutting, grabbing Blaise by the sleeve and turning to leave.

“Goodbye, lovelies,” she trilled, pulling Blaise toward the castle. “Draco, if you keep lying on the ground like a cretin you’ll get grass stains – whatever would your father think?” she said over her shoulder, directing a smirk toward the reclining boy.

“Fuck what father thinks,” Draco muttered harshly, covering his face with a pale arm.

Lyra snorted before she could stop herself, shaking her head at her brother. She glanced toward the Gryffindors to find Weasley and Hermione staring at her in shock.

“What?” she asked, laughter threatening to bubble up out of her. “I _am_ capable of laughing, you know.”

Hermione quickly flushed in embarrassment whilst Weasley remained confused.

Lyra couldn’t help it – she burst out laughing at his face.

“Is all your family going to be amazed that we have actual human emotions, Weasley?” Lyra asked when she had calmed down slightly.

“Probably,” he admitted with a shrug. “Maybe except Fred and George. I have a feeling they might like you.” He looked immensely uncomfortable at the idea.

“Great,” Draco mumbled. “I had nearly successfully forgotten about the twin terrors.”

“Draco, dear, I know you admired them – stop lying to yourself,” Lyra said with simple directness.

Draco sat up, spluttering slightly as he tried to defend himself. “I did not - !”

Before anyone could say anything, the loud ringing of the dinner bell could be heard across the grounds and they all headed to the Great Hall.

***

“So, which one of you are shagging, Potter?” Millicent asked crudely. “Or is it both of you? Do you share him?”

Her, Theo, Pansy, Blaise, Draco and Lyra were all spread across the various beds in the Sixth-Year boys' dormitory. Millicent was smirking profoundly at them from her position on Crabbe’s bed.

Lyra scoffed loudly at her. “Neither of us are shagging, Harry. Though we all know that Draco wouldn’t be opposed to the idea.”

Millicent’s cackle was joined by Pansy’s screeching laugh and Blaise’s deep chuckle.

“I really hate you, Lyra,” Draco muttered from his bed, his face bright red with embarrassment.

“We all know it’s the truth,” she said, leaning further back against Theo’s chest from where she was sitting between his legs. He was resting against the headboard of his bed, arms wrapped around Lyra’s waist.

“You’re just jealous that you’re not getting any action, while your sister is,” Pansy drawled.

“Pansy, please, we all know that you’re not getting any either,” Theo chuckled from behind Lyra, his chest rumbling slightly.

“Yes, well not all of us are lucky enough to have a boyfriend like you, Theodore,” Pansy sniffed, sending a pointed glare at Blaise, who was too preoccupied trying to find something in his trunk to notice.

“He is a pretty spectacular boyfriend, isn’t he?” Lyra bragged, turning around to kiss Theo.

His hands tightened on her waist as the kiss deepened. She ran her fingers through his hair before pulling back suddenly when something smacked her in the back of the head.

“You’re such a dick!” she hissed at Draco, scowling half-heartedly before turning around and settling into her original position.

Draco shrugged unapologetically. “It’s bad enough knowing you’re shagging one of my best mates, I don’t want to see it as well.”

Lyra stuck her tongue out at him childishly. He copied the action before they both burst into laughter.

“I swear you two are both actually children,” Theo said with a smile, pressing a kiss to the back of Lyra’s neck.

They had all converged into the boys' room after dinner, as planned, and answered the questions that Millicent and Theo had had for them. Thankfully, they were both in agreement with Pansy and Blaise and were willing to accept Harry’s offer of help.

“Are you really going to the Weasley’s house for break?” Pansy asked, breaking the calm silence that had settled on the room. A slight smile graced her face as Blaise settled on his bed beside her, casually wrapping one arm around her shoulder. If those two didn’t start dating soon, Lyra was going to forcefully go up to them and make them.

Draco scowled slightly at Pansy’s question. “Yes,” he muttered bitterly, “Potter thinks it’s a good idea – safe, he said.”

“And we all know that you’d do whatever Potter says,” Millie teased.

Draco scowled deeply. “ _Potter_?” he spat in disgust. “I can tolerate him in a conversation but I cannot _stand_ his Saviour complex. It’s sickening.”

“I bet you’d still shag him if he asked,” Pansy said with a smirk. “He’s very fit – for a righteous Gryffindor.”

“I regret telling you all that I’m bent,” Draco sighed dramatically. “Life would have been so much easier without this horrid torture.”

“You were never able to hide it from me,” Lyra said pointedly. “But it doesn’t mean you have a crush on Harry.”

“We have hated each other for years, Ly,” Draco said with a grimace. “Never in this world would we _ever_ fancy each other.”

Lyra shrugged and snuggled further into Theo.

“Now, I think I’m ready for bed,” she announced. “Theo?” she asked him with a devilish smile.

He grinned in agreement and allowed her to turn in his arms, leaning his head down to capture her lips in a slow snog. 

Lyra beamed into the kiss and pulled the curtains of the four-poster bed closed, blocking out Draco’s complaints.

“ _For fucks sake! Why in my fucking room – !“_

***

One thing that Draco was loathed to admit was that, despite their many questionable attributes, the Gryffindors were unfortunately _likeable_. The easy carelessness he had had with Potter after being released from the Hospital Wing nearly two months ago had not returned (although Draco adamantly blamed his carefree behaviour on the numerous pain-numbing potions he had been given), despite Lyra’s best efforts. Draco could simply not comprehend how his twin was able to act as if the last five odd years had never happened and effortlessly assimilate into the Gryffindors’ circle. Draco suspected it was both Lyra and Granger’s love for fiction novels that was an unfortunate bridge between them. Yet, despite this, Draco was coming to find that the Golden Trio were not as intolerable as he had originally perceived.

This did not mean, however, that he was comfortable with the newfound ‘friendship’ which Lyra had imposed upon him.

“Chin up, Coco,” Lyra said brightly, smiling widely at Draco’s scowl at the use of her childhood nickname for him. “It’s only studying. It’s not like I’m asking you to get down on your knees and kiss their feet.”

Draco’s scowl deepened at the idea and he shoved his hands further into his pockets, refusing to look at his sister or acknowledge her in any way.

A quiet _huff_ told him that Lyra was not impressed.

“If you’re going to ignore me, at least have the decency to notify me beforehand so that I don’t waste the effort of talking to you.”

As this, Draco whipped his head to look down at Lyra, who was smirking triumphantly.

“Why so moody, hun?” she asked him, linking their arms as they walked down the corridor toward the classroom Lyra had agreed to meet the Gryffindors in. “Don’t tell me you’ve got those Wrackspurt things Lovegood was talking about.”

“Why you listen to a word Lovegood says astounds me,” drawled Draco.

Lyra slapped his arm slightly. “Luna is extremely interesting. You only have to give her a chance.”

Draco shook his head at her in disbelief. “Where has this Hufflepuff nature of yours suddenly come from?” he asked her. “Last year, you would have been smirking at the opportunity to ridicule Lovegood and now you’re finding her interesting?”

Lyra’s face darkened and she stopped walking, pulling Draco to a halt with her. Her grey eyes, identical to his, were steely as she stared at him.

“Last year,” she said slowly and in a quiet voice, “we weren’t serving a psychopathic madman and given a task meant to get us killed.”

Draco clenched his jaw but didn’t look away from his sister’s face, even when she turned to glance out a nearby window, the afternoon sun glinting off her white-blonde hair.

“Excuse me from trying to find a new approach to things,” she continued in the same low voice. “This past year has opened my eyes about a few new ways of thinking.”

Draco remained silent as Lyra stared off into the distance in silent contemplation. Part of him wanted to argue but the other part knew she was right – even he could admit that he was slightly too stubborn for his own good sometimes.

“It’s difficult, trying to change,” Lyra said, turning her face back to his. “But if it keeps us alive…Well…then I think it’s worth the effort, don’t you?”

“But we’re throwing away everything we know,” argued Draco. “Our lives, our family, our traditions.”

“Don’t give me that bullshit, Draco,” snapped Lyra. “I know you care less about the blood status business than you promote. And besides, what have our traditions actually given us? Matching tattoos that will haunt us for the rest of our lives?”

“But mother – “

“Dumbledore and the Order will get her to safety,” Lyra said, her mouth curling slightly at the idea. “It’s not ideal, but it’s all we have right now.”

“And what if they suddenly decide we’re not worth it anymore?” Draco asked. “What then, Lyra? Blaise and Pansy and Theo and Millie are all counting on us to help protect them. What happens if we can’t?”

“We will.”

“You don’t know that for certain.”

“We’ll make it fucking happen, Draco,” she said sharply. “No matter what we have to do. We’ll protect them. Slytherins look out for each other, no matter what.”

Draco sighed and rubbed his hand over his face.

“It’s so messed up, Ly,” he said quietly, sagging against the windowsill. “It was so much easier just following what father wanted.”

“I don’t fancy being mindless bigots the rest of our lives,” she replied wryly, slotting into Draco’s side and wrapping her arms around his torso. “Promise me you won’t change your mind and leave me.”

Draco looked at her sharply and tightened his arms around her small frame.

“I would never leave you, Ly,” he promised. “It’s you and me, always. Even if we have no one else, we’ll always have each other.”

“I just want to make it to the other side of this fucking war,” Lyra muttered. “But that side – _his_ side – that wasn’t right. That wasn’t what it was meant to be.”

They stood in silence for a while longer before Lyra realised that they were going to be late for their study session.

“Just be civil, please,” she begged Draco. “You don’t even have to like them.”

Draco ran a hand through his hair, grimacing when he realised what he had done.

“That’s the problem,” he murmured. “I’m finding it more difficult to hate them.”

“That’s good!” Lyra smiled brightly. “Who knows, maybe you’ll upgrade to first names?”

“Don’t even suggest such a travesty. Potter will always be Potter to me.”

“I guess it’s not surprising that I do all the work in this partnership,” she teased, pulling open the door to the classroom violently.

“You can fuck right off with your apparent work ethic,” Draco grumbled, reluctantly following her inside, only to pause immediately. “Lyra…I thought you said it was only meant to be the _three_ of them!” he hissed to his sister, who was looking around the occupied room with a slightly ill expression on her face.

“Lyra, Draco! There you are, I thought you might have forgotten,” Granger called, waving them over to a table that, amazingly enough, had some free space left. Unfortunately, Granger’s shout had attracted the attention of all the other Gryffindors in the room.

“Of course, not,” Lyra said smoothly, replacing her ill expression with one of gentle politeness. “Draco and I simply had some matters to discuss.”

“Don’t worry about it,” said Hermione. “I saved you both a spot. We had some unexpected additions, sorry.”

“Yes, that was rather evident by the atrocious amount of red in the room,” Draco commented, eyeing each of the students distrustfully. He grunted in pain when Lyra’s elbow dug into his side.

“Don’t be rude,” she hissed, before turning a beaming smile upon Hermione, causing more than a few of the boys to blink and stare at her. Draco, in turn, glared at them pointedly. “No worries, Hermione. T’was just a tad surprising is all.”

Draco reluctantly followed Lyra to the two seats crammed next to each other in between Granger and Potter. Of course, it was Potter. Draco could never seem to be rid of the boy-who-lived-to-annoy-him.

“What are you working on?” Lyra asked Hermione politely, withdrawing some parchment from her bag.

“Well, Dean, Seamus, Parvati and I were working on Transfiguration while the others were working on Potions,” Hermione replied, tucking an errant curl behind her ear. “I was trying to get Ron and Harry to finish that essay Slughorn set us yesterday.”

“But it’s due on Friday, Hermione,” Weasley whined from across the table. “I don’t see why we have to finish it now!”

“Because if you don’t do it now, you’ll never do it,” snapped Hermione. “And I won’t let you copy off mine.”

Draco had to admit that Granger’s personality was growing on him, although the thought made him internally scowl each time it made itself known.

“Excellent,” Lyra said brightly, breaking Draco out of his mind. “I was going to ask if you would check my Transfiguration and Defence essays? Draco already has but I’d like another perspective, seeing as Defence isn’t his best subject.”

“It’s not like it’s yours either,” Draco said defensively. “Although, you’d probably pay more attention if you didn’t sit next to _Theo_.”

“Not my fault Severus cares more for my love life than yours,” snarked Lyra with a smirk.

“That’s only because he knows you need much more help in that department,” Draco said primly. Neither of them noticed the interested listeners who leant closer to hear better.

Lyra scoffed. “As if,” she said. “At least I _have_ a boyfriend. That’s more than you, darling.”

At that moment, Hermione coughed slightly and Draco’s head shot up as he realised the audience they had.

“Neither the time nor place, Lyra love,” he said quietly, absently straightening his tie compulsively. He ignored the questioning look Potter sent him. “Transfiguration?” he prompted his sister.

“I do believe you were assigned to Potions,” Lyra replied, flashing apologetic eyes at him.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” snapped Hermione to everyone around the table. “Back to work.”

Yes…Draco could admit that Granger was growing on him. Especially when Weasley, Finnigan and Thomas all scowled heartily but eventually cowered under her fierce glare.


	3. Chapter Three - The Betrayal

“Remind me again why we can’t just say at Hogwarts?” Draco asked, cringing at the slight whining tone of his voice.

“Because you have a homicidal maniac currently living in your Manor?” Pansy answered flippantly, not looking up from where she was painstakingly painting Lyra’s nails black.

Lyra snorted inelegantly as Draco glowered at their black-haired friend.

“Honestly, stop whining Draco,” Millicent said with a groan. “All we’ve heard for the past month is your incessant nattering. Just suck it up and deal with the Gryffindors.”

“Or let them deal with you,” Blaise said with a leer.

“Fuck off, Blaise,” Draco said, rubbing one hand down his face. “And Millie, it wasn’t _incessant nattering_ – it was justified worrying. We’re willingly walking into the Weasel den.”

“Well, not entirely _willingly_ ,” muttered Lyra, watching as Pansy expertly dried her nails. “If Harry hadn’t been so insistent…”

“I still don’t understand why you won’t just admit that one of you is sleeping with Potter,” grumbled Millie, crossing her arms over her chest.

“That’s because neither of us are,” Lyra laughed. “Sorry, Millie, darling, but Harry just can’t resist helping people.”

“Bloody Saviour complex…” Draco huffed. He turned to look out the window as the train shot through the countryside. It was with great trepidation that he realised they were nearly at Kings Cross. “Surely we just cancel and get a room at the Leaky – “

“No!” the intermingled voices of his friends and sister shouted.

Draco huffed again and slid further down into his chair, seething for the unlucky reality of his life.

***

Lyra gripped Draco’s hand tightly as they stood on the drive leading to the Burrow. Hermione and Ron had just Apparated them there and they currently had been unable to take the first steps toward the rickety house.

“I feel like this is a really bad idea,” Lyra said in a tight voice.

“Oh, you’re saying that _now_?” hissed Draco furiously.

“Come on, you guys, it’ll be fine,” Harry said brightly, appearing behind them and giving them a slight push forward. “They won’t bite.”

“You don’t know that for certain,” Lyra muttered as they grudgingly began following Weasley, Hermione and the she-Weasley. Lyra spotted chickens walking freely in the front yard and barely managed to stop her lip from curling at the side of the tangled garden. _Be polite_ , she reminded herself.

“Lyra, stop worrying,” Harry said. “You and Draco are welcome here and Molly won’t let anyone say otherwise.”

“It’s the Weasley matriarch which is the worry,” Draco replied quietly. Lyra nodded in agreement.

However, they didn’t have any other opportunity to turn around back to safety, for at that moment, the front door swung open and a squat, rotund woman appeared in the doorway, her hair the exact same shade as her children’s.

“Ah, there you are dears,” she said in a kind tone, eyeing them all critically. “I don’t know what those Hogwarts elves are feeding you. You are all too thin!”

Lyra watched slightly opened mouthed as Molly Weasley stepped towards her and Draco and put her hands on each of their shoulders, peering at them intently.

“Now, I want you to know that Harry, Ron and Hermione have explained everything to me,” she said briskly, “and you are more than welcome here. If you need anything at all, just let me know. Neither I nor my family will be holding your past against you. The important thing is that you’ve taken the step to something better.”

“Oh, er, thank you, Mrs Weasley,” Draco said stiffly when it became obvious that Lyra was in too much shock to respond. “We appreciate your hospitality.”

“No worries at all, dear, none at all,” assured Mrs Weasley. She became ushering them into the house, ignoring their slightly frightened faces. “Now, Draco, you’ll be staying with the two boys in Ron’s room and Lyra, you’ll be in with Hermione and Ginny.”

At Lyra and Draco’s terrified expressions, Harry quickly spoke up.

“Er – Mrs Weasley?” he said in a rush. “Do you think they could maybe stay in Bill or Percy’s old room? Or maybe even the twins' – they aren’t staying, are they?”

Mrs Weasley seemed to realise that Lyra and Draco would indeed be much more comfortable separated from the rest of them and she said, “Oh, I’m sure we’ll make something work. I don’t want to risk them staying in the twins’ room, however. I still haven’t been able to clear out all the explosives.”

“ _Explosives?”_ breathed Lyra and Draco, glancing at each other with identical fear-filled eyes.

“Don’t worry about that,” Mrs Weasley said as they entered the kitchen. “Those boys just loved their experiments. I’ll go on up and see if one of the other rooms is okay. We’ll most likely have to conjure another bed…” she added with a thoughtful look.

“It’s really all right, Mrs Weasley,” Lyra said quickly. “Draco and I can share – we wouldn’t want to cause any difficulties.”

“None at all, dearest,” Mrs Weasley gushed. “Why don’t you all go and wait in the living room? Dinner will be ready soon and we can all eat in the kitchen.”

With that, she disappeared up a cramped set of stairs. Weasley led them into the living room and Lyra allowed Draco to place them on the couch, angling himself slightly in front of her.

“Relax, mate, the twins aren’t here so you don’t need to worry about anything attacking you,” Weasley said around a mouthful of biscuit. Where he had even gotten one remained unknown.

“Splendid,” Draco replied weakly.

Lyra looked around the room and had to admit that, despite what it lacked in finesse, the Burrow was quiet homely in a very cramped, messy way. There was something on every surface whether it be a crochet doily, a well-thumbed book or a gleaming photograph. Mismatched chairs and cabinets were scattered around the room, all facing the weather-worn fireplace, currently unlit in the Spring heat.

“I’m finding it slightly hard to believe we’re actually here,” Lyra said suddenly into the silence. “I never imagined stepping foot into Gryffindor territory, let alone _Weasley_ territory.”

“Yeah, well, feel honoured,” Weasley said gruffly. “We don’t let just any snake in here.”

“Ronald, be nice,” chided Hermione. She turned to Lyra and Draco. “I’m glad you two are safe at least.”

“You and me both, Granger,” murmured Draco. He was sitting quite stiffly beside Lyra as if he were at one of the various luncheons they had been forced to attend as children.

“Have you heard anything else about our mother?” Lyra asked. “Preferably, I’d like to contact her at some point.”

The three Gryffindors turned to look at each other quickly. Lyra hadn’t noticed the female Weasley leave. Hermione awkwardly cleared her throat and turned back to the twins.

“Well,” she said haltingly. “Professor Dumbledore and Mrs Weasley think it may be better if you don’t contact your mother.” Ignoring the outraged noises Lyra and Draco made, Hermione continued, “They think that it will make it easier for people to track you. If they have no reason to question your whereabouts then there won’t be any problems.”

“But mother will surely notice something is amiss if we don’t contact her,” Lyra argued.

“Dumbledore said he’s taken care of it,” Harry said, smiling reassuringly at her.

“And you didn’t think to mention this earlier?” Draco said bitingly.

Harry shrugged slightly. “I don’t know anything else. I was going to mention it later.”

“Spectacular,” Lyra said slightly hysterically. “Not only were we forced into unknown territory, we also can’t have any outside contact. Brilliant.”

“Would you have preferred to return to the Manor with Death Eaters breathing down your necks?” Weasley said harshly.

Lyra and Draco stiffened.

“I didn’t say that Weasley,” Lyra snapped.

“All right, that’s enough of that.”

Lyra turned in surprise to see that Mrs Weasley had returned and was currently looking at her youngest son with barely concealed disappointment.

“Ron, don’t be rude to them,” she said. “They are our guests and they’ve given up a lot to be here. The least you can do is show some respect.” She turned to face Lyra and Draco and her expression softened. “Dears, Bill’s old room is ready for you. Harry can show you where it is and then we’ll have dinner. Does that sound all right?”

“Yes, Mrs Weasley, thank you,” Lyra said quietly, Draco echoing the sentiment.

“Excellent,” Mrs Weasley said warmly. She turned to her son. “Ronald. In the kitchen with me. _Now_.”

Lyra sighed and turned toward Draco. This was going to be an interesting holiday.

***

When Draco saw his family’s eagle owl descend towards him during breakfast, he couldn’t help the sliver of fear that cut into his heart. He swallowed dryly as the owl dropped a letter in front of him. Across from him, Lyra’s grey eyes froze and her body stiffened as she recognised the elegant script on the front.

Draco took the letter in hands that thankfully only trembled slightly. Slitting it open, he withdrew the expensive parchment and scanned the information quickly, jaw tightening at his father’s concise words.

“What did he say?” Lyra asked quietly. Pansy and Blaise were silently watching them both carefully.

Draco handed the letter over without comment and Lyra’s eyes quickly scanned it.

“So,” she said at last, “what are you going to reply?”

“Well, considering that he’s asking for a progress report behind all the barely veiled insults,” Draco drawled, “I might as well make something up. It’s not like we actually have anything to report.”

“Won’t he be suspicious?” Blaise asked.

“Who cares now?” Lyra scoffed. She mock-pouted slightly. “Father couldn’t even bother to mention me. How rude.”

Pansy snorted from beside Draco.

“Might as well get it over with,” Draco sighed. “I’ll write a reply in Charms.”

“Draco, what happens when your father demands proof?” Pansy said.

“Well, let’s hope that Potter’s safe house is ready before then,” replied Draco.

In all honesty, Draco couldn’t help but worry about what would happen at the end of the year. A small part of him had wanted to go and check that the Vanishing cabinet had been destroyed but when he had mentioned it to Lyra, she told him that there was no way Dumbledore or Severus would have let such an object remain at the school. Nonetheless, he still couldn’t shake the fear that something was going to go wrong – it felt as if the luck that had been holding out for the last few months was running out and the consequences were going to be more disastrous than he could imagine.

Judging from the current look on Lyra’s face, she felt the same.

It wasn’t until later in the day that Draco was given something else to think about.

“Hey Draco, have you seen Theo at all today?”

Lyra’s question made Draco pause in his new favourite pastime – stressing over his future – and turn his attention to his sister.

“No, I haven’t actually, sorry,” he replied.

Lyra hummed in acknowledgment and nodded, biting her bottom lip slightly.

“All right, what’s wrong?” Draco asked, dragging her down to sit beside him at the library table. “You’ve been on edge all day. Is it the letter from Father?”

“What? No,” she said, shaking her head. “I couldn’t care less what that bastard wants. No, I’ve been worried about Theo lately. He’s been quite distant since Easter but he refuses to talk to me…”

“He hasn’t said anything to me.”

“I’m worried he may be rethinking this whole thing,” admitted Lyra. “I mean, you know how much he cares about his father – what if he doesn’t want to betray him?”

Draco sighed and thought for a moment. It was true that Theo was closer to his elderly father than all the others but he also had seemed quite relieved with the opportunity to avoid following in his footsteps as a Death Eater.

“Maybe he’s just stressed out about school work?” Draco offered weakly.

Lyra nodded absently again and Draco frowned. It wasn’t like her to not have an opinion on things like this, especially when it was her boyfriend they were talking about.

“Lyra, what else is going on?” Draco prodded. “It’s not just Theo, I can tell.”

Draco only had a split second of horror to realise that Lyra’s eyes were filling with water before she burst into tears. He hastily embraced her and put her head on his shoulder, rubbing a hand down her back as she sobbed quietly into his chest.

“Lyra!” he said. “Please tell me what’s wrong!”

“I – I – I’m just so _worried_ ,” she cried. “This entire situation is so fucked up and I’ve just been feeling more and more stressed as every day passes. What happens if Harry can’t protect us, Draco? We’ll have to go back to that _horrid_ place and deal with that monster – pretending as if we agree with what’s happening! And we haven’t heard anything from mother and Dumbledore refuses to tell us anything – “

“Lyra, calm down,” Draco said soothingly, pressing a kiss to the top of her blonde hair. “It’ll be all right. Regardless of what happens, you’ll always have me, remember?”

“I know that,” she sniffed. “Of course I do! I just – I just can’t help how terrified I feel. And I’m acting like such an absolute _wimp_ \- !”

“Everyone’s allowed a day to cry, darling,” Draco said softly. “Although, I must say that you’re lucky I sit so far back in the library or else I fear you’d be scaring the other students. You are Slytherin’s Ice Queen after all.”

Lyra huffed a wet laugh and wiped her eyes. Sitting back, she gripped Draco’s hands tightly.

“Promise me that no matter what happens, you won’t let me become like them,” she said in a fierce voice. “I don’t care what you have to do, _promise me_.”

“I promise,” Draco said with a sinking feeling in his heart. “But let’s not let it get to that, okay?”

Lyra nodded and fully withdrew herself. In a manner of seconds, the usual Malfoy mask was back in place and she looked as if she’d never been crying in the first place.

“I think we should go see if Harry has anything else to tell us,” she said, her voice strong despite its slight waver.

“You’ve been asking him every day,” Draco reminded her. “I’m sure he’ll come to us if he finds out anything.”

“Why so quick to disagree, Coco, dear?” Lyra said with a small smirk. “Are you finally accepting your ‘non-existent’ crush on him?”

“I do not have a crush on him, Lyra!” Draco hissed, glancing furiously around them. “Just because I said he was fit _once_!”

“You said he was fit twice!” Lyra countered. “And you were practically drooling as you watched him play Quidditch with the Weasleys. I was so sure you’d catch the Snitch, your mouth was hanging that far open.”

Draco growled slightly and debated the merits of sending a hex his sister’s way.

“I do not have a crush on Potter,” he repeated. “I can’t help that I find him attractive. Even you have to admit that he’s gotten better!”

“Well, I can’t argue with that,” conceded Lyra. “He has begun to look quite delectable, if I do say so.”

“Besides,” Draco continued, “there’s no evidence he’s even bent. He dated that Chang girl a few years back and he’s been making moon eyes at the girl Weasley for months.”

“Firstly, that thing with Chang was a horrendous disaster, Hermione told me all about it,” Lyra stated. “Secondly, he hasn’t been making _moon eyes_ at female-Weasley. That girl has had a crush on him for the longest time, even he isn’t that oblivious. Surely he would have done something about it before now if he were interested.”

“I don’t even know why we’re talking about this,” Draco grumbled, dropping his head to the table.

“You just don’t want to admit that you’d sleep with Harry,” countered Lyra with a smirk.

“I never said I wouldn’t,” Draco muttered, his words slightly muffled. “I’m a teenage boy and he’s not too bad on the eyes.”

“I just want you to admit that you fancy him,” Lyra continued. “You always look for him the second you walk into a room _and_ you’re always trying to get his attention. You’ve been doing it ever since first year.”

“You truly are a horrible sister, you know that right?” Draco said.

“I mean, Harry is just as bad as you,” she went on, ignoring him. “And that’s not even mentioning the excessive stalking he did at the start of the year.”

“Yes, that was rather over the top,” agreed Draco. “But he was also stalking _you_ too. Who's to say he doesn’t fancy you?”

Lyra burst into tinkling laughter. “ _Me_? Ha! You must be crazier than I thought, darling. Of all the people who are dying to fall into my bed, Harry Potter is _not_ one of them. Your bed, however…”

“You are completely delusional. How you even come up with such an absurd idea is beyond me – “

“ – I’m just saying that you shouldn’t discount the possibility,” Lyra said. “Harry’s been extremely willing to spend more time with us and he always makes an effort to include you in conversation.”

“He’s just sickeningly nice like that,” argued Draco. “You’ve finally gone round the bend, Lyra dearest. I fear you might need to visit Pomfrey.”

Lyra huffed. “Fine, be like that. But I know I’m right.”

“Whatever floats your boat, darling.”

“But I do still want to talk to Harry.”

Draco groaned. “Do we have to?”

“Yes,” Lyra said sternly. “Now, I know you’re not actually working so get your arse out of this chair – you’re coming with me.”

“Spectacular,” he said sarcastically. “A hunt for the lions. Just how I wanted to spend my evening.”

“Oh, hush you drama queen,” Lyra said, smacking his arm. “It’ll all be worth it in the end.”

“Don’t call me a drama queen!”

***

Lyra knew the exact moment that their luck ran out.

It was late at night and the common room was deserted except for Lyra, Draco, Blaise and Pansy. Millie had called it a night about an hour earlier and Theo was nowhere to be found. They had been working on their final Potions assignment when the common room door slid open to reveal a frantic Severus Snape.

Draco rose to his feet as their godfather stormed into the common room, his face white and his dark eyes sharp.

“You two, come with me,” he snapped to Lyra and Draco.

“What’s going on?” Lyra asked quickly, jumping to her feet, wand held tightly in her hand. “Severus, what’s happened?”

“The Death Eaters have gotten into the school,” Severus said darkly.

Tense silence followed his words and Lyra felt as if her heart had dropped from her stomach.

“But – but that’s not possible,” Draco gasped, clutching Lyra’s arm tightly. “The cabinet – “

“I can’t explain here,” hissed Severus. “You must follow me now.”

“Where?” Lyra said as they left a dumbfounded Blaise and Pansy in the common room. The dungeons were quiet around them but Lyra thought she heard the distant sound of shouting. “Severus, what about Harry – Dumbledore?”

“Enough questions!” barked Severus. “They cannot help us now. Stay silent and alert.”

Lyra and Draco held each other’s hands tightly as they raced through the halls in the direction of the Astronomy Tower. As they grew closer, distinctive sounds of battle reached their ears. They rounded a corner and were immediately met with the sight of multiple, black-cloaked figures fighting students and some adults. Lyra caught a glimpse of she-Weasley’s fiery red hair as they raced past.

“What’s going on?” Draco shouted to Severus, who glared darkly at them and shot a curse at a nearby fighting pair. Lyra couldn’t tell which one was hit by the spell as they both collapsed in a pile.

“Severus, _please_!” she called, feeling a sob build in her throat.

They had nearly reached the entrance to the tower when Hermione and Weasley suddenly appeared before them, battling two towering Death Eaters. Lyra raised her wand but Severus yanked her arm down, hissing at her furiously, “Do not intervene!”

“But we have to help them!” she exclaimed.

Severus growled and pushed them through the entrance to the tower, a strange barrier tickling their skin.

“Be quiet and keep your eyes open,” Severus hissed at them before marching up the stairs to the top of the tower.

Lyra and Draco followed cautiously and Lyra stifled a cry of shock when she saw Dumbledore leaning heavily against the metal railing, two broomsticks beside him.

“Disarm him,” Severus said calmly to Draco.

“What?” Draco said in shock. “No.”

“Disarm him, Draco! Now!” Severus barked, eyeing the old headmaster carefully. “If you want to live, you’ll disarm him.”

Draco raised his wand, his hand shaking.

“It’s okay, Draco,” Dumbledore muttered weakly. “Do as he says.”

Draco swallowed and murmured the spell, turning his head away as the headmaster’s wand flew over the edge of the tower, tumbling away into the night. Before either of them could demand an explanation, footsteps thundered up the stairs and Lyra’s heart stopped as a group of Death Eaters appeared, all leering at Dumbledore.

“Ah, there you both are,” Bellatrix Lestrange said, stepping forward to caress Lyra’s cheek. “We were wondering where you had disappeared too.”

“We were expecting you young Malfoys to meet us at the cabinet,” a gruff voice said behind them. “Imagine our surprise when the room was empty.”

“Nevermind that now,” snapped Bellatrix. “Look what they’ve got for us.” She crept closer to Dumbledore and cackled as he slid slightly lower against the railing, his face losing more colour. “Look at the old man – they’ve already managed to take his wand.”

“What are you waiting for?” barked another Death Eater. “Finish him off.”

“Be a good boy, Draco,” crooned Bellatrix, moving to stand behind them. “Wouldn’t want dear mummy and daddy to be disappointed.”

Draco’s arm was still raised and it shook slightly as his breathing quickened. He glanced down at Lyra and she saw that his grey eyes were wide with terror.

“I guess you need a bit more incentive,” snarled a deep voice behind Lyra. She shrieked as she was suddenly caught in a strong grip, putrid breath filling her nose. “If you don’t kill the old man, I’ll kill your pretty little sister.”

“Get your hands off her,” hissed Draco, his hand tightening on his wand.

A long, sharp nail came to rest on the side of Lyra’s neck and she tried to calm her breathing as it pressed against her pulse.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Fenrir Greyback growled. “I wouldn’t be doing anything too hasty, young Malfoy. Not unless you want to be cleaning your sister’s blood off your clothes for weeks.”

“Come on, Draco,” cackled Bellatrix. “He’s all laid out for you.”

Dumbledore was watching them carefully, no ounce of terror evident in his bright blue eyes. He nodded slowly at Lyra and Draco and then turned to Severus.

“Please, Severus…”

Lyra watched in horror as Severus unhesitatingly raised his wand and cried, “ _Avada Kedavra_!”

The spell hit Dumbledore straight in the chest and with a flash of bright, green light, the old headmaster was lifted off his feet and thrown over the railing, disappearing into the dark night.

Draco’s breath was shuddering in his chest as he took a step back. Fenrir laughed and released Lyra and she pressed herself close to her brother, trying to make her hand stop shaking enough so that she could use her wand properly.

“Let’s go!” shouted Severus, marching past the crowing Death Eaters and grabbing Lyra’s arm, tugging her behind him. Draco growled low in his throat but a quick look from Severus had him following. Lyra’s grip on him tightened.

They raced back the way they came, down the winding stairs and out into the middle of a raging battle. It seemed that only a few Death Eaters had gone to see Dumbledore’s demise while the others remained down here to deal with what was obviously the Order and some members of Dumbledore’s Army. Hermione’s shocked, bloody face caught Lyra’s eye as they ran past and Lyra hoped she looked distraught enough to communicate that she wasn’t willingly following Severus.

A sudden shout behind them made Lyra’s head whip back to see that Harry had emerged from the tower’s entrance and was bearing down on them, his fiery green eyes locked on Severus.

In response, Severus quickened his pace until they were sprinting down the halls, spells shooting past them at random, glass and stone exploding around them. When they reached the grounds, Severus shoved Lyra and Draco at Bellatrix.

“Take them!” he shouted, before spinning around to deflect a spell from Harry.

Bellatrix cackled gleefully and gripped Lyra’s arm painfully. They passed Hagrid’s hut and Lyra was dismayed to find it alight with fire. She didn’t necessarily like the half-giant but that didn’t mean she wanted to see him dead.

“Get past the boundaries!” Bellatrix snapped at them. “We’re going to the Manor.”

Lyra turned half-around to see that Harry was struggling to stand behind them while Severus raced away from him. Harry’s eyes caught hers briefly and she saw genuine fear and sorrow fill them before she was wrenched violently forward.

As they passed through the giant gates, Draco wrapped his arms around Lyra, pressing her close and she felt Bellatrix grip them – and a split second later they were turning, disappearing into nothingness as true terror descended upon them.


	4. Chapter Four - The Battle

Draco shivered as he pulled the thin blanket closer to his body, trying to make sure that it still covered Lyra’s sleeping form beside him. 

The dungeons were always cold but in the middle of winter, they were nearly unbearable. But his father had both their wands, so he couldn’t even cast a heating charm to ensure they didn’t freeze to death. Yet, Draco thought that that was most likely the point: when you disobeyed a direct order, you were punished.

“You are a very good brother, Draco.” The lilting voice beside him broke through the thick silence of the cell. Draco turned to see Luna Lovegood staring at him with her pale, luminous eyes. “Lyra is very lucky to have you as a twin.”

“Thank you, Luna,” he said quietly, his voice rough from the screaming earlier. “Are you warm enough?” he asked the other girl, eyeing the pathetic excuse for a blanket she was given.

“Oh, yes, I’m okay. Thank you for asking,” Luna said with a misty smile. “Even though I don’t like the fact that you and Lyra are forced down here occasionally, I’m glad to have the company.”

Draco furrowed his brow and drew Lyra closer to his body, her skin worryingly cold against his.

“I wish you didn’t need to be here in the first place,” he eventually murmured, careful of the potential ears lurking out in the darkness beyond the bars.

“That’s a very kind thing to say,” Luna said. “I do miss daddy, though.”

Draco could only nod in response. Luna had already been down here for nearly two months. Lyra and Draco had tried to bring her extra food or blankets whenever they could but they were carefully monitored nearly every second of the day. After the Dark Lord had heard that they had failed to kill Dumbledore, he had punished them accordingly for failing his task. Luckily, he didn’t seem to know that they had planned to defect to Potter’s side.

Potter.

The boy had been missing since last July, only vague reports reaching Draco’s ears as the Death Eaters waited impatiently for action. As the Dark Lord slowly acquired more and more control of the Wizarding World, the sightings of Potter had lessened, until they had fully stopped three months ago. Draco didn’t allow himself to hope that Potter would come and save him and Lyra – that opportunity had been lost the moment that they both Disapparated away the night of Dumbledore’s death.

A sudden commotion upstairs made Draco and Luna freeze, the small girl subtly inching closer to Draco’s side. Moments later, a group of people appeared, two figures fighting against the restraints across their wrists and ankles. A Death Eater raised his wand and opened the cell door before shoving the two figures in, one quiet tall and the other extremely short.

“Sit down and shut up,” the Death Eater barked.

Through the dim glow of the lamps, Draco realised that the short figure was a goblin and that the face of the other man was strangely familiar.

“Malfoy?” the man said in a thick voice.

“Dean?” Luna asked suddenly, pale eyes wide. “Is that you?”

“Luna?” Dean gasped. “What are you doing here?”

He crawled closer and Draco realised it was indeed Dean Thomas. His dark face was scratched and one of his eyes was beginning to swell.

Draco looked down at Lyra to see that she hadn’t stirred at all at the noise. He frowned and pressed a hand to her temple, startingly when he found her ice cold.

“She’s freezing,” he said, turning frantically toward where the Death Eaters still stood outside the cell. “Get my mother – or at least another blanket.”

“No can do, little Malfoy,” one of them said gruffly. Draco glowered as he realised it was Yaxley. “You’re being punished. Can’t give little treats during punishment.”

“But she could die!” Draco hissed.

“Not my problem,” shrugged Yaxley. “Little bitch bit me last time. Be better if she kicks it, in my opinion.”

Draco scowled deeply as he remembered the incident during the Christmas holidays when Yaxley had snuck into Lyra’s rooms and tried to have his way with her. Draco had moved her into his own rooms that very night. Yaxley and his companions laughed cruelly before disappearing up the thin stairs leading to the upper levels.

“Here.” Draco turned around to see that Dean had taken off the large coat he was wearing. “Put this on her. It should help a little.”

“Thank you,” Draco murmured, laying the coat around Lyra before replacing the blanket, pulling her closer to his side. Her breathing was shallow and Draco just hoped they would be out of the dungeons tomorrow morning.

“You can share my blanket, Dean,” Luna said sweetly. “I would offer you your own but we need to keep Mr Ollivander warm.”

They all looked toward the far corner where the frail, old man was lying on the lone cot, his breath puffing in front of him slightly.

Draco gripped Lyra tightly and pressed his face into her hair, praying to anything that would listen that they would make it out of this alive.

***

Hogwarts was completely unrecognisable.

Lyra sat on her bed in the Slytherin dormitories and hugged her knees close to her chest. Pansy was sitting beside her, both still silent with the shock of what had happened that afternoon.

They had been walking down to dinner after what had become Muggle Studies – a horrible class taught by Alecto Carrow that focused primarily on how disgusting Muggles were – when a sudden shriek had stopped them in their path. The entrance hall had been filled with horrified students crowding around something. Lyra and Pansy had pushed their way forward until they saw that everyone was watching three figures, two of them on the ground while the other stood above them, wand pointing down at the prone figures.

“Did you really fink it was a good idea to defend this ‘alf-blood scum?” Amycus Carrow snarled, shooting another curse at Blaise’s twitching form.

Pansy let out a half-sob and took a step forward but Lyra held her back with a quick shake of her head. It would do no good to any of them if they stepped in now. They could only hope that one of the other Professors showed up soon and tried to help.

“Well?” Amycus growled. Blaise let out a pained groan as his body convulsed against the curse. “Not so brave now, are ya?”

Lyra looked at the other small body and realised that it was a first year Ravenclaw. Their arms were curled around their body as tears streamed down their face. Across from them, Lyra saw Draco appear in the crowd, his face paling as he looked down at his best friend.

Amycus increased the power of his curse and Blaise let out a low scream, flipping over so that he was face down on the ground, the tendons of his neck standing out sharply.

“This should teach ya a lesson,” sneered Amycus. “Fought you’d know bet’er.”

He strode forward and savagely kicked Blaise in the chest. A loud _crack_ made Lyra flinch violently. Beside her, Pansy was sobbing quietly, her hands covering her mouth.

“This is what happens when you try to defend scum!” Amycus shouted, eyeing the crowd and waving a hand around, as though presenting a show. “Too bad he’s a Pureblood, else I’d show ya all a _real_ lesson.”

Another kick to Blaise’s chest, causing the boy to splutter and cough blood, and then Amycus backed away. He smiled cruelly around the crowd, his eyes pinpointing on Lyra and Pansy for a moment longer than everyone else, before he spun around and marched toward the Great Hall, the crowd parting quickly as he passed.

Immediately, Lyra, Draco and Pansy rushed forward to Blaise’s prone body. The boy was thankfully unconscious as Draco hauled him into his arms. Lyra quickly checked on the Ravenclaw, only to find that some of the older Gryffindors were watching over him. Finnigan nodded once at Lyra before helping the others lift the small body in the air, disappearing up the staircase.

“Come on, we have to get him to the hospital wing,” Draco said and Lyra rushed forward to take some of Blaise’s deadweight. Pansy tried to assist as they trudged along the corridors but she was still blinded by tears, her face as white as a sheet.

Now, it was after dinner and Blaise still hadn’t left the hospital wing. Draco had promised to stay with him as long as he could, but Pomfrey wouldn’t risk everyone else staying.

“I wonder how Blaise is doing?” Lyra asked quietly.

Pansy didn’t respond and Lyra glanced over at her. The other girl’s hair was limp and her face was wan.

“Pans?”

“What if he’s not okay?” Pansy said.

Lyra placed a gentle hand on Pansy’s arm. “He’ll be fine,” she promised. “Madam Pomfrey can fix up anyone. She’s been doing it all year.”

Suddenly, Pansy’s eyes filled with tears. Lyra quickly pulled the other girl into her arms as she cried.

“I’m so scared, Lyra,” Pansy sobbed. “Nowhere feels safe anymore.”

“I know, Pans, I know,” sighed Lyra.

Students didn’t dare walk between classes alone anymore, not that they were really allowed to. The Professors watched over them at every opportunity, always trying to make sure they were as protected as possible. The classes themselves barely taught anything of relevance – most of the time they sat in the classrooms simply taking notes while trying not to fear what would happen in the coming days, the coming hours. Constant terror walked alongside everyone in the halls. And it had only gotten worse as the rebellious actions of Dumbledore’s army lessened. People were afraid to do anything and get caught; the punishment wasn’t worth it. And the worse thing was the students were beginning to turn on each other. They were being given the opportunity to practice magic they hadn’t before and some of the students were grasping that opportunity with both hands. It was horrible to watch as students as young as fourth year practice dark curses on their peers – yet it was even worse being on the receiving end of such a curse.

Lyra also held out for any information surrounding the Golden Trio – but after a brief mention of them around Christmas, nothing had been heard since. Mother had taken to writing weekly to both Draco and Lyra to ensure that they were okay, especially considering the disapproval of their father.

Right now, all she and the others were doing was trying to survive each day.

***

Draco stiffened as his father walked into the library. Lyra was sitting beside him, a book open in her lap, yet she had been on the same page for nearly five minutes already. They were both aware that a group of people had arrived at the outskirts of the wards minutes before.

“Come with me, both of you,” their father snapped, standing tall in the doorway.

Draco and Lyra didn’t hesitate and immediately arose from the couch, standing close together as they followed their father in silence to the drawing room. Lyra drew in a sharp breath as they saw the scene before them.

Bellatrix was standing before a group of Snatchers, three hunched figures in front of them. Their mother was standing behind her, her elegant face pinched and worried. Lucius stalked into the room, indicating that Draco and Lyra should follow.

“Draco, Lyra,” he said in a tight voice, “I need you to do something. This man – tell us, is it Potter? We must know…we must be sure…”

Draco stepped forward, carefully keeping his face blank as he drew nearer to the huddled figure at the very front. He recognised Weasley and Granger beneath all the dirt and mud covering them and knew without a doubt that Potter would be before him.

The man raised his face.

“What happened to him?” Draco asked before he could think of the consequences.

“They said he was stung by something,” Bellatrix answered shrilly.

 _Yeah,_ Draco thought, _probably Granger’s wand._

“Well? Is it him? It is Potter?” demanded Lucius.

Draco studied the face, familiar despite the swelling. If it weren’t for the bright, green eyes staring back at him, Draco would have thought that Potter was nearly unrecognisable.

“I – I can’t be sure,” Draco said. Potter’s eyes widened slightly and Draco urged him to stay quiet.

Behind him, Lucius’s breath quickened. His father stepped forward and placed an arm around Draco’s shoulders.

“Come now, Draco,” he said. “Take a closer look. We have to be entirely sure before we call the Dark Lord…”

“I told you,” Draco repeated evenly, “I don’t know.”

“Lyra,” Lucius snapped, releasing Draco. “Come look. Maybe you’ll offer a better answer than your brother.”

Lyra stepped up beside Draco and peered down at Potter. Draco felt her hand grip his own tightly. She studied the face before them for a moment before straightening, turning to their father.

“I can’t be sure either,” she said firmly. “Draco was telling the truth. I doubt it’s Potter.”

Lucius growled and pulled them both away.

“Useless, the both of you,” he snarled.

“I don’t think they’re properly inspired,” Bellatrix said suddenly, smiling cruelly at them. “Greyback! Come here!”

Draco’s heart skipped a beat as the horrendous werewolf ambled forward, leering disgustingly at Lyra. A moment later, Lyra disappeared from Draco’s side and he sucked in a breath as he realised that Bellatrix had grabbed her, dragging her away from him.

“Let’s see if Draco’s answer changes when it’s his sister on the line as well,” Bellatrix cackled, passing Lyra to Greyback despite the girl’s struggles.

“What?” Draco gasped.

“Bella – no!” Narcissa cried. “You promised to leave Lyra and Draco out of this!”

Greyback howled with laughter and pressed Lyra close to his body. She fell still and her face went blank as the werewolf pressed his nose to her neck.

Draco felt ill as Bellatrix laughed gleefully.

“How about now, Draco, dear?” she exclaimed. “Does he look more like Potter now?”

“I told you, I can’t be sure!” Draco said, clenching his jaw tightly. Lyra’s blank expression terrified him. He had no idea how he could get to her with everyone watching him so carefully.

At that moment, however, Bellatrix’s attention caught on something off to the side.

“What is that?” she shrieked, stalking forward to one of the Snatchers. He looked down at the sword that was hanging from his belt.

“Found it in their stuff,” the Snatcher said with a shrug. “Guess it’s mine now.”

“That should be in my vault!” Bellatrix cried. “Where did you get it?” She whirled toward Granger and stalked forward. “What else did you take? _What else did you take from my vault_?”

“Nothing!” Granger said. “We didn’t take anything! We haven’t been in your vault!”

“Don’t lie to me!” Bellatrix screamed.

“I’m not lying!”

“Draco, take the boys to the dungeons,” Bellatrix told him. She turned back to Granger and scowled. “I think we need to have a little chat – _girl to girl_.”

Draco hesitated for a moment, glancing toward Lyra.

“ _Now_ , Draco!” snapped his aunt. “Or else I’ll give Lyra to more than just Greyback!”

Draco quickly grabbed Potter’s arm and dragged him over to Weasley. He pointed his wand at their backs and led them out of the room, trying to wipe the image of Lyra’s flat eyes and Granger’s terrified face from his mind. Once in the dungeons, Draco quickly untied the two men.

“We have to help Hermione!” Weasley exclaimed, trying to push past Draco.

“You can’t!” Draco said frantically. “If you go back up there, they’ll know that I helped you escape! They’ll kill us.”

“You can’t expect us to just sit here and do nothing!” Weasley shouted.

“Ron, is that you?”

Luna’s voice echoed in the dark cell and suddenly it filled with light. Draco saw Weasley put something silver in his pocket as Potter turned to the cell’s occupants.

“Luna?” he asked.

“Harry, how lovely to see you again,” Luna said, smiling softly at them. “Hello again, Draco. Where’s Lyra?”

At that moment, there was an ear-piercing scream from above and they all froze.

“HERMIONE!” Weasley shouted. “ _HERMIONE_!”

He ran toward the doors but Draco closed them, holding them firm as Weasley pushed against them.

“I’m sorry, Weasley!” he said, staring at the other man. “I need to go make sure Lyra is all right. But I’ll – I’ll do what I can.”

Hermione screamed again and Draco flinched. The sound grated against his skull.

“Draco, please, you have to help us out of here somehow,” Potter said. The swelling in his face had gone down significantly and he was beginning to look like himself again.

“I – I – “ but he was cut off by another feminine scream, except this one wasn’t Hermione.

“No!” he said, spinning around. “Lyra!”

“Draco, wait!” Potter shouted behind him as he ran up the stairs.

Draco burst into the drawing room to see Lyra convulsing on the floor, Bellatrix standing over her, wand raised.

“What are you doing?” Draco shouted. He tried to race forward but was stopped by his father's hand on his arm.

“Just giving some extra motivation,” Bellatrix smirked. “The other girl became boring.”

Draco looked over and saw that Granger was collapsed on the ground, her arm covered in blood.

“Leave Lyra alone!” Draco said furiously.

“Draco, enough!” Lucius snapped.

“Bella, leave my children alone,” Narcissa said fiercely. Bellatrix pouted but released the spell and Lyra sunk to the ground, extremely still. Draco shook off Lucius and raced forward. Bellatrix scowled at him as she pressed three wands into his hands.

“Do not lose these,” Bellatrix hissed.

Draco pulled Lyra into his arms and hauled her to the side of the room. He nearly cursed his aunt when he realised that Lyra’s stomach and sides were marked by thin claw marks and slices. But he didn’t have any time to do anything about it.

The drawing room door burst open and Potter and Weasley emerged through it, Weasley shooting spells at random. Potter raced towards Draco and easily grabbed the wands from Draco’s hands, spinning around and shooting Stunners across the room. Lucius was caught by a strong Stunner and was flung into the opposite wall. He sunk to the ground, a trickle of blood falling down his temple. Screams echoed around the room as Weasley kept shooting off spells.

“Is she okay?” Potter asked in a whisper, turning around again and acting as if he were struggling with Draco.

“I don’t know,” muttered Draco, looking fearfully over Potter’s shoulder at where Weasley was Stunning the remaining Snatchers. Bellatrix was shrieking wildly and waving her wand around, her other hand brandishing a silver knife. Draco watched as she lunged towards Granger’s prone body and hauled her upright.

“What - ?”

“Stop or she dies!”

Everyone froze at Bellatrix’s shout. Granger was limp in Bellatrix’s arms, the silver knife pressed hard against her bared throat. Potter stepped away from Draco and Lyra and took a step closer to Weasley.

“Another step and I slit her throat!” Bellatrix screamed. A trickle of red began to slip down Granger’s throat and Weasley growled loudly at Draco’s aunt.

Beside him, Lyra groaned weakly and lifted her head.

“Her…mi…ne…” she whimpered.

A strange squeaking sound could be heard above Bellatrix’s shouts and everyone looked up to see a house elf sitting on the chandelier, unscrewing it quickly.

“ _Dobby_?” Narcissa cried.

The next few minutes happened so fast.

Dobby brought the chandelier down upon Bellatrix and Granger, sending them flying in an explosion of metal and glass. Weasley and Potter lunged for their friend while attacking Bellatrix and Narcissa. Draco huddled close to Lyra, covering her body with his own as glass and rubble rained down upon them.

An angry growl. A crack of Disapparation. A piercing scream.

The last thing Draco saw was Potter’s green eyes staring at him regretfully before the Golden Trio was whisked away into nothingness.

***

Lyra lay beside Draco, watching his chest rise and fall shallowly. He had been unconscious for three days now, with Lyra herself only waking the day before. Tremors still shook both their bodies and Lyra watched as Draco stirred in his sleep, face contorted into a grimace.

Voldemort had not been happy with Harry’s escape.

The door to the room cracked open and a thin figure slipped through, closing the heavy wood silently behind them. Moonlight reflected off familiar white-blond hair and Lyra released the breath she hadn’t known she had held.

“Lyra,” her mother said in a near-silent whisper. “Darling, you should be resting.” She slid onto the bed and threaded a smooth hand through Lyra’s pale locks, brushing them away from her face like when she was a child.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Lyra replied. She refused to tell her mother that she could barely sit still without every muscle and nerve in her body twitching uncontrollably.

Narcissa sighed softly. “The Healer said that all tremors should be gone within the week.”

“I just want Draco to wake up,” Lyra whispered. She rested her hand on Draco’s arm, a slight sheen of sweat coating it. He sucked in a breath and turned his body towards hers slightly in response.

“Me too, darling,” Narcissa said. “Your father – “

“I don’t want to talk about him,” Lyra said sharply.

“Lyra…” sighed Narcissa.

“No, Mother,” Lyra said. “He’s the reason we’re in this shitty situation in the first place. We should have just stayed at Hogwarts.”

“Lyra, be careful what you say,” Narcissa hissed.

“Why?” Lyra scoffed. “What are they going to do? Torture us some more? Kill us?”

“Enough!”

Draco shifted again at Narcissa’s raised voice but remained unconscious.

“Enough,” Narcissa repeated in a much softer voice. “I will not have you saying such things.”

“Don’t tell me you still agree with everything that is happening, mother?” hissed Lyra. “That _monster_ is destroying our lives and father is letting him!”

Narcissa remained silent but her face tightened in disapproval.

“You should rest,” she eventually said, getting up and brushing her hands down her robes. Why she was still wearing robes in the middle of the night was beyond Lyra’s concerns. Narcissa turned to face Lyra, elegant face blank. “I’ll see you in the morning, darling.”

Lyra merely nodded before curling up against Draco, hiding her face in his chest.

It took Draco two more days to wake up.

By that point, Lyra’s body had healed enough that she could eat without sending her food spilling down her front when the tremors in her hands got too intense. She was sitting in the large wingback armchair in front of the bay window overlooking the grounds, her plate balancing on top of her knees which were drawn up to her chest, when a small groan made her turn back towards the bed.

Draco was sitting up, one hand rubbing at his face. He looked around the room groggily and Lyra was pleased to note that he didn’t seem to be visibly shaking – unlike her when she first woke up.

“Lyra?” Draco said in a croaky voice. “What time is it?”

“Around midday,” she replied. “You’ve been out for a few days.”

Draco nodded and took a deep breath.

“Is that apple crumble, I smell?” he asked.

Lyra nodded and took another bite. “Miffy was feeling bad about being unable to help, so I asked her to make it. Come get some before I eat it all.”

Draco walked slowly over and lowered himself into the chair opposite Lyra’s.

“You’ve nearly eaten the entire thing!” he exclaimed, hurriedly grabbing a large slice.

Lyra shrugged. “I was hungry. You should have woken up earlier if you wanted more.”

“So sorry,” Draco said drily, “next time I’m cursed within an inch of my life, I’ll be sure to wake up earlier to eat. We wouldn’t want you getting ill.”

“Very funny, Coco,” Lyra said. She stared down at her plate for a moment before saying quietly, “You didn’t tell them.”

Draco’s hand froze, fork suspended midair in front of his mouth. He slowly lowered it back to the plate before replying. “Of course not.”

“Why?”

“I thought it would be obvious. You didn’t tell them either.”

“They’re my friends,” Lyra said, frowning. “You, however, could barely stand them.”

Draco’s eyes caught her own and Lyra was surprised to notice that he looked slightly hurt.

“They grew on me,” was all he said.

Lyra nodded and they continued eating in silence.

“Mother came to see us,” Lyra said after they finished. “Other than that, no one has been admitted entrance.”

“What did she say?” Draco asked.

“She wanted to talk about father.”

Draco scowled and copied Lyra’s pose, pulling his feet up onto the chair.

“Trying to get us to forgive him for everything?” Draco asked darkly.

“Probably,” replied Lyra. “I didn’t let her get that far.”

Draco snorted and smirked at her. “Typical.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lyra asked, the corners of her mouth twitching upwards.

“Nothing,” Draco said airily. “I’m just not surprised you didn’t let her speak. You have a habit of ignoring when people say something you don’t like.”

“Bastard,” muttered Lyra, unable to contain her smile any longer.

“Wench,” was the laughed reply.

Draco barely ducked in time as Lyra’s fork sailed toward him.

***

“DRACO! _DRACO_!” Lyra screamed, pushing her way through the fighting crowd, spells and dust raining around her. “DRACO!”

She coughed and veered sideways as a giant acromantula burst through the wall, scattering rubble everywhere and causing two dark-robed figures to disappear under its weight. She blindly shot a spell and ran, barely looking where she was going.

All around her the battle raged. Screams of pain and fear filled the air as curses flew around them. The ground shook with each step of the giants behind them and an icy cold hovered in the air, the only indication of the dementors closing in. Despite the surrounding darkness, Lyra’s path forward was lit by bright bursts of spells as she raced through the lower halls of Hogwarts, searching desperately for Draco.

She rounded a corner and nearly plummeted through a hole in the floor, barely throwing herself back in time, arms pinwheeling to keep her balance. A pair of arms grabbed her own and pulled her out of harm’s way, causing her to collapse against her rescuer.

“Malfoy?” a shocked voice asked.

Lyra spun around to see one of the Weasley devil twins staring down at her, dust covering his entire body and a bloody gash marring his bicep. Lyra was startled to notice that one of his ears was missing, smooth skin covering where the appendage should have been.

“Be careful,” he continued. “Nowhere’s safe now.”

“Thanks,” she muttered distractedly. She darted her eyes around the corridor, looking for any way she could reach the other side. Finding none, she swore loudly.

“Are you okay?” the twin asked her, frowning slightly.

“I can’t find Draco,” she blurted out. “I was with him in the Hall but then we got separated and I can’t find him!”

Lyra could feel herself begin to hyperventilate and would have run straight back the way she had come if Weasley hadn’t grabbed her arms again to stop her.

“Woah! Not so fast, mini-Malfoy,” Weasley said, pulling her around to face him. “You’re in no state to rush back into the fight.”

“I need to find him!” she shouted. “Let go of me!”

Weasley was either very brave or very stupid, for he merely raised an eyebrow at her but didn’t release her arms.

“No.”

“What do you mean, ‘no’?” she growled. “Let go of me this instant, Weasley!”

“The name’s George,” he replied calmly. “And no. If I let you go, you’re going to run back out there and get killed. That won’t do Draco any good.”

Lyra stopped struggling and stared at George in surprise.

“Why do you care?” she finally asked. “You hate us.”

George shrugged and slowly let go of her arms, eyeing her carefully in case she tried to make a run for it.

“Mum went soft for you guys after you stayed at the Burrow,” he replied. “And Harry always stood up for you both. Hell, even _Ron_ stopped insulting you.”

Lyra gaped at the redhead.

“All right, blondie, close your mouth,” he grinned. “I thought we had your twin to rescue.”

Lyra’s jaw snapped shut and she clenched her wand tightly.

“You want to help me?” she said. “I think I’ve finally gone mad.”

“Well, no time like the present to lose your mind,” George gleefully replied. Then his face turned serious. “But yes, I’ll help you look for your brother. Losing your twin is the worst thing to happen to a person, I wouldn’t wish it on anybody, regardless of their past.”

Lyra’s chest tightened at the implication.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “H-how?”

“Explosion,” George replied flatly. “About thirty minutes ago.”

“Oh, Merlin…”

“I can’t focus on it right now or I’ll break down,” he said, smiling ruefully at Lyra. “But if I can help you avoid feeling the same, I will.”

“Thank you,” Lyra said sincerely. “We should go.”

“Do you have any idea where Ma – Draco would go?” George asked as they turned around and pushed through a tapestry covering a hallway. “You’ve both been at school the entire year, haven’t you?”

“I’ve already checked everywhere I could think of,” Lyra huffed. “I even checked the bloody Room of Requirement but it wouldn’t open.”

“Then maybe – “

George’s words were cut off by a sudden voice filling their heads. Lyra gasped as she recognised the cruel voice, instinctively curling her arms around her in protection. She felt George draw her close to his chest as they both listened to the words pounding through their consciousness.

“ _I command my troops to retreat, immediately. You have one hour.”_

Lyra heaved for breath as the smothering presence left her mind.

“What the fuck was that?” gasped George, his face extremely pale.

“That, my dear Weasley, was Voldemort,” Lyra said emotionlessly. “Unpleasant, isn’t it?”

They both stood in the silent corridor as the sounds of battle slowly retreated.

“What should we do?” she asked quietly.

“They’ll all be going to the Great Hall,” George replied. “I should – I need to – Fred – “

“We’ll get his body,” Lyra said.

George looked at her sharply. “But what about Draco?”

“If he has any sense, he’ll be waiting in the Hall by the time we get there,” Lyra said. “And if he’s not, I’ll fucking curse him.”

“So you are still your lovely self,” George commented as they began walking upstairs. “Good, I was beginning to worry you’d lost your spark.”

“Oh shut up, Weasel,” Lyra said with a laugh.

“No, I’m serious,” George continued with a grin. “The universe wouldn’t be able to cope if Lyra Malfoy was suddenly a Hufflepuff.”

“Why must you insult me so?” Lyra complained.

“Just making up for all those years you insulted my family,” George replied airily, not looking the least bit annoyed.

“Good to know you didn’t lose your sense of humour along with that ear,” muttered Lyra, causing George to burst into loud laughter.

By the time they arrived in the Great Hall with Fred, a line of the dead had begun to appear down the middle of the room. Lyra stepped away as George’s family descended upon him, breaking down at the sight of their dead son. She scanned the room but didn’t see Draco anywhere. Not even the Golden Trio were there. Against her better judgement, she glanced down at the dead. Her heart thudded loudly as she spotted Remus Lupin’s scarred face. She had never really liked him much but she couldn’t deny he had been a wonderful teacher. Beside him laid a pretty young woman, her hair a shocking pink. Someone had placed them so that their hands were linked; Lyra hadn’t even known they were together. A few people down, Lyra recognised Lavender Brown. One of the Patil twins was sobbing over her body, dark hair curtaining the gruesome wounds on the other girl’s neck. Unable to bear the thought of seeing anybody else she knew, Lyra turned away, only to find her gaze snag on two familiar figures in the doorway.

“Lyra,” Pansy said in relief. “Thank god, you’re okay.”

Lyra pressed herself close to her best friend, relishing in the fact that she was simply _alive_.

“Where’s Draco?” Blaise asked, placing a hand on Lyra’s shoulder. “I saw Theo leave earlier but haven’t seen the others – “

“He’s alive.”

They all turned around to find Harry Potter standing behind him. His clothes were torn and his face was covered in ash and blood, but his green eyes were still shining brightly. Behind him stood Hermione and Weasley, both looking in similar states of disarray.

“We pulled him and Goyle from a fire in the Room of Requirement,” Harry continued. “I don’t know where he went afterwards.” He seemed to hesitate for a moment, turning to look over his shoulder at Hermione in question. The girl nodded silently. “Crabbe didn’t make it,” Harry said.

Pansy sucked in a breath and gripped Lyra’s arm tightly.

“So he’s - ?”

“Dead,” confirmed Harry. “I’m sorry.”

Lyra just nodded and looked behind the trio, hoping to see a familiar shock of white-blond hair.

“Also…” Harry went on, looking at Lyra with grief-stricken eyes, “Snape’s dead.”

Lyra’s knees buckled and Blaise caught her before she hit the ground. She blinked away tears as she struggled not to break down.

“How?” she eventually choked out.

“Nagini,” Harry replied. “Voldemort killed him.”

“I need to find Draco,” Lyra said in a broken voice.

Hermione and Weasley had disappeared by the time she looked up again and Lyra knew that they had spotted the Weasley family near the back. Lyra felt a hand on her arm and turned to see Harry looking at her intently.

“Thank you,” he said quietly. “For what you and Draco did at the Manor. You saved us.”

“You would have done the same for us, I hope,” Lyra replied. “You were my friend, Harry. We couldn’t let you die.”

To Lyra, Blaise and Pansy’s surprise, Harry stepped forward and pulled Lyra into a tight hug. He was surprisingly taller than Lyra remembered; she thought that he must have been nearly the same height as Draco.

“Everything will be okay soon, I promise,” he said, pulling away.

“Why does that sound like a goodbye, Harry Potter?” she asked him.

He shrugged and smiled slightly, not answering her question.

“I should find Ron and Hermione,” he said instead, stepping away.

Before he got too far, Lyra grabbed his wrist and pulled him to a stop.

“Harry, you should know – “ she said haltingly, “Fred – “

“I know,” he said gently. “I saw it happen.”

She released him and stepped back to Blaise and Pansy’s sides.

“Stay safe, Lyra,” Harry said. He nodded at Blaise and Pansy and walked away, heads turning to watch him as he passed.

“Now I feel really guilty about trying to hand him over,” Pansy grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest. She winced slightly at an apparent injury.

“Serves you right for a being a bint,” Blaise muttered distractedly. “On another note, I just found our lost boy.” He nodded towards the entrance where Draco was limping inside, Greg’s arm strung over his shoulder.

“Draco!” Lyra called, running forward. Draco groaned as she collided with him, wincing as he wrapped his free arm around her shaking shoulders.

“Hey, Ly,” he whispered.

“Where the fuck have you been!” she demanded. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere!”

“I ran into Greg and Vince,” Draco said. “We ended up in the Room of Requirement after Potter…”

He hissed as Lyra punched him.

“You idiot!” she hissed. “What did you think you were doing?”

“Trying to make sure they didn’t kill him!” Draco hissed back. “But that doesn’t matter – Vince – “

“We know,” Blaise said lowly. “Potter told us.”

“He’s okay?” Draco said, relief covering his face.

“Yes, but Draco…Severus is dead,” Blaise continued.

Draco’s face fell and shuttered. “Oh,” was all he said.

“Let’s go sit down,” Pansy suggested. “Blaise, can you take Greg? He looks barely conscious.”

The five of them struggled over to a nearby corner and sat in a huddle. Greg indeed was barely paying attention. He was leaning against the wall, eyes blank as they stared at seemingly nothing. Lyra gripped Draco’s hand tightly, refusing to let him out of her sight for even one more second.

“I thought you two were meant to leave?” Draco asked Pansy and Blaise, who were sitting close together, hands entwined.

“We didn’t want to leave without you and Lyra,” Pansy said. “But then it became obvious that the students were losing…”

“And we couldn’t just stand there and let them die,” Blaise finished, looking out across the Hall at the grieving students. “So we decided to fight.”

“Although, I’m sure Finnigan shot a hex or two at me,” Pansy said darkly.

“You deserve it for that stunt of yours,” Draco said with a frown.

“Don’t even talk about it,” Pansy interrupted, raising a hand. “Blaise and Lyra already gave me the third degree.”

“Stop,” Lyra said tiredly. “I don’t want us fighting. I can barely stand, I’m pretty sure my wrist is sprained and I have no idea where my mother is. Can we just sit for a moment?”

Silence met her words as the others nodded and slunk lower into their seats. Lyra closed her eyes and leant heavily against Draco, sighing when he wrapped an arm around her, holding her close. Their peaceful rest was disturbed by a hesitant clearing of a throat.

“Erm – Lyra? Draco?”

They all looked up to see Hermione and Weasley standing before, the former looking quite pale and the latter looking as though he was going to collapse at any moment. Considering he had just lost his brother, Lyra wasn’t surprised.

“Yes?” Draco said into the extended silence.

“We were wondering if you’ve seen Harry anywhere?” Hermione asked in a strained voice. “We can’t find him.”

Lyra exchanged a glance with Draco and noticed that his silver eyes were tight with worry.

“I haven’t seen him since he told us about Vince and Severus,” Lyra replied. Pansy and Blaise nodded in agreement. Greg didn’t move, seemingly not even aware of the conversation.

“Oh, okay,” Hermione said, nodding quickly. “Thank you.”

She turned to leave but Lyra called out her name quickly. “Hermione. If we see Harry, we’ll tell him you’re looking for him.”

“Thank you,” Hermione whispered again. “I just worry that he’s gone and done something horribly stupid.”

“You don’t think he’s gone to give himself up?” Draco said anxiously. “He can’t. There’s no way Voldemort would leave us alone.”

“I think he knows that,” Hermione replied, worrying her lip with her teeth. “But Snape gave him some memories to look at. I’m more worried about what was in them.”

“Hermione,” Weasley said quietly from behind her, “let’s go.”

They disappeared back into the crowd of tired fighters. Heads lay sagging between knees as hands or bodies were held tightly. Tear tracks stood stark against dust-covered faces. Despite the quiet conversation, a heaviness settled above them all, suffocating them even when they could breathe freely.

Eventually, Lyra couldn’t take the silence any longer. She rose to her feet, detangling herself from Draco’s grip.

“I’m going to go find George,” she announced to the group. Blaise and Pansy didn’t look up from where they were pressed together, Pansy’s head resting on Blaise’s chest. Draco merely nodded and squeezed her hand.

She found the lone twin standing slightly away from his family, eyes locked on his brother’s body.

“Hey,” Lyra said quietly, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “How are you holding up?”

George turned to look at her with pain-filled brown eyes. “It gets worse the longer I think about it,” he admitted. His eyes widened slightly. “Did you find Draco? I’m sorry, I promised I would help you – “

“Don’t worry about it,” Lyra assured. “He’s fine. He’s resting over there with the others.”

George nodded and took a deep, shuddering breath.

“I just can’t believe he’s actually gone,” he whispered, reaching down to grip Lyra’s hand tightly. “Part of me doesn’t want to accept it.”

She rested her head on his shoulder and just stood with him as his family grieved around him. A sudden thought struck her.

“Would you mind if I said a few words to him?” she asked George. He looked at her in surprise but nodded.

“S-sure,” he said, gesturing her forward.

Lyra nodded at Mr and Mrs Weasley as she crouched beside Fred.

“I’m very sorry for your loss,” she said to the elder Weasleys. “I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re going through.”

“Thank you, Lyra,” Mr Weasley said softly as Mrs Weasley continued to sob into her hands.

Lyra turned to Fred and put a hand on his chest gently, murmuring the familiar words into the quiet space.

“ _Entre sains et saufs dans ton sommeil éternel, mon cher, car le monde ne te fera plus de_ _mal_.”

“Wh-what is that?” Mrs Weasley asked thickly, raising her tear-stained face to look at Lyra.

Lyra smiled softly and placed a hand over Mrs Weasley’s.

“Something my mother taught me many years ago,” Lyra replied. “It is essentially offering safe passage for wherever his next journey may take him.”

Fresh tears slipped from the corner’s of Mrs Weasley’s eyes and she drew Lyra into a tight embrace.

“Thank you, dear,” she whispered into Lyra’s ear. “And I am so sorry that we were unable to be there for you and Draco last year.”

Lyra withdrew and smiled reassuringly at Mrs Weasley. “It’s all right, Mrs Weasley,” she said. “It’s the past and right now we need to focus on the future. The battle isn’t over, but we all need to remain strong.”

George pulled Lyra into a hug of his own when she stood up.

“You know, you’re not so bad,” he said in a thick voice. “Shame you had to be a bitch for so long.”

“Shut up, you dick,” Lyra huffed. “And it’s not like I was the only one who was horrid.”

“Yes, your brother definitely had some pent-up anger within him,” George said in mock-seriousness. He left out an _ooft_ as Lyra dug her elbow into his ribs.

“I was talking about you _Gryffindors_ ,” she said. “You lot could never avoid starting a good fight.”

“Hey, that was mainly Harry,” George countered. “He always had a hard time ignoring your brother.”

“Don’t I know it,” muttered Lyra. “Speaking of said brother, I better get back before he begins to worry.”

George nodded and grabbed her arm before she could walk away.

“Thank you, Lyra, seriously,” he said sincerely. “If you ever need anything, you let me know, okay?”

“Will do, Van Gogh,” she replied with a smirk.

“Van Gogh?” she heard George ask as she walked away.

“He was a muggle painter who cut off his own ear,” Hermione replied.

“That little shit,” George said.

Lyra smiled to herself and wound her way through the crowd. She hadn’t gotten very far when a loud thumping noise caught her ear.

“What’s that?” someone around her asked.

“Sounds like marching,” someone else replied.

Lyra’s heart raced and she pushed through the rest of the people, hurriedly making her way back to the corner where Draco and the others were sitting.

“Lyra!” Draco said in relief when he spotted her.

“What’s going on?” she asked him.

“I have no idea,” he replied. “But everyone’s going outside to find out.”

They followed the rest of the crowd, trying to make themselves as unnoticed as possible. Some people still sent them harsh glares when they made eye contact.

Lyra tightened her grip on Draco’s hand and exchanged a worried glance with Blaise as they all came to a halt on the steps leading to the entrance hall. A large group of Death Eaters stood before them, black robes standing in stark contrast to the morning sunlight creeping over the forest. Lyra caught sight of the blond heads of her parents but refused to catch their eye. Instead, she looked toward the front of the group and felt herself gasp.

Voldemort was standing proudly at the very front, a smug look on his flat, snake-like face. one hand was holding his wand tightly while the other gestured towards where Hagrid stood, a limp figure held carefully in his arms.

“Is that - ?” Draco choked.

“Harry,” Lyra said in anguish.

“NO!”

The scream was the more terrible because she had never expected or dreamed that Professor McGonagall could make such a sound. Lyra heard another woman laughing nearby, and knew that Bellatrix gloried in McGonagall’s despair. Around her, more voices rose into the air, each sounding as broken as each other.

“No!”

“ _No_!”

“Harry! HARRY!”

Lyra curled herself around Draco and felt tears slip down her face as she looked at the body of the boy who had risked so much to help them, even though they were enemies. She felt as though the last hope she had held onto was finally slipping away, leaving her with only a dark abyss of destruction.

“SILENCE!” cried Voldemort, and there was a bang and a flash of bright light, and silence was forced upon them all. “It is over! Set him down, Hagrid, at my feet, where he belongs!”

Hagrid carefully lowered Harry’s body on to the grass.

“You see?” said Voldemort, striding backwards and forwards right beside the place where Harry lay. “Harry Potter is dead! Do you understand now, deluded ones? He was nothing, ever, but a boy who relied on others to sacrifice themselves for him!”

“He beat you!” yelled Ron, and the charm broke, and the defenders of Hogwarts were shouting and screaming again until a second, more powerful bang extinguished their voices once more.

“He was killed while trying to sneak out of the castle grounds,” said Voldemort, and there was relish in his voice for the obvious lie, “killed while trying to save himself –“

Voldemort broke off: Neville Longbottom had broken free of the crowd and charged at Voldemort: Lyra watched as Voldemort waved his wand and Neville hit the ground, Disarmed, Voldemort throwing Neville’s wand aside and laughing.

“And who is this?” he said, in his soft snake’s hiss. “Who has volunteered to demonstrate what happens to those who continue to fight when the battle is lost?”

Bellatrix gave a delighted laugh.

“It is Neville Longbottom, my Lord! The boy who has been giving the Carrows so much trouble! The son of the Aurors, remember?”

“Ah, yes, I remember,” said Voldemort, looking down at Neville, who was struggling back to his feet, unarmed and unprotected, standing in the no-man’s-land between the survivors and the Death Eaters.

“But you are a pureblood, aren’t you, my brave boy?” Voldemort asked Neville, who stood facing him, his empty hands curled in fists.

“So what if I am?” said Neville loudly.

“You show spirit, and bravery, and you come of noble stock. You will make a very valuable Death Eater. We need your kind, Neville Longbottom.”

“I’ll join you when hell freezes over,” said Neville. “Dumbledore’s Army!” he shouted, and there was an answering cheer from the crowd, whom Voldemort’s silencing charms seemed unable to hold.

“Very well,” said Voldemort, and Lyra heard more danger in the silkiness of his voice than in the most powerful curse. “If that is your choice, Longbottom, we revert to the original plan. On your head,” he said quietly, “be it.”

Lyra saw Voldemort wave his wand. Seconds later, out of one of the castle’s shattered windows, something that looked like a misshapen bird flew through the half-light and landed in Voldemort’s hand. He shook the mildewed object by its pointed end and it dangled, empty and ragged: the Sorting Hat.

“There will be no more Sorting at Hogwarts School,” said Voldemort. “There will be no more houses. The emblem, shield and colours of my noble ancestor, Salazar Slytherin, will suffice for everyone, won’t they, Neville Longbottom?”

He pointed his wand at Neville, who grew rigid and still, then forced the Hat on to Neville’s head, so that it slipped down below his eyes. There were movements from the watching crowd in front of the castle, and as one, the Death Eaters raised their wands, holding the fighters of Hogwarts at bay.

Voldemort looked up at the crowd, his scarlet eyes glinting cruelly in the early morning light. His gaze seemed to lock onto Draco and Lyra and his thin mouth split into a smile.

“Lyra, Draco, there you both are,” he said. “Your parents have been quiet worried about you. Why don’t you come down here and help show everyone what happens to anyone foolish enough to continue to oppose me?” He gestured towards Neville, who was still rooted to the spot, unable to move, the Sorting Hat slipping down his forehead.

“He is a classmate of yours, no?” Voldemort continued. “From what I’ve heard, he has been causing you quite some trouble this year. Come, now, and rejoin your rightful place among us.”

Lyra felt eyes turn to look at them as they remained where they were standing. Draco had tightened his grip on Lyra’s arm, the other griping his wand tightly.

Voldemort’s smile dropped and he scowled at them both.

“I said, come,” he said in a dangerous whisper.

“No.”

The one word echoed across the silent courtyard. Lyra was shaking like a leaf but she held her head high. Draco looked terrified.

“I beg your pardon?” Voldemort said, taking a step forward. “I must have misheard you, Draco. I could have sworn you said, ‘no’…”

“Go to hell, you snake-faced bastard!”

Gasps filled the air at Lyra’s shout and she saw her mother shaking her head frantically within the Death Eater crowd.

Voldemort’s scowl deepened and he raised his wand.

“Very well, then,” he hissed. “Let’s see how you feel when this boy’s blood is on your hands.” And with a flick of his wand, the Sorting Hat burst into flames.

Screams split the dawn, and Neville was aflame, rooted to the spot, unable to move, and Lyra was watching in horror –

And then many things happened at the same moment.

They heard an uproar from the distant boundary of the school as what sounded like hundreds of people came swarming over the out-of-sight walls and pelted towards the castle, uttering loud war cries. At the same time, a small giant came lumbering round the side of the castle and yelled, ‘HAGGER!’ His cry was answered by roars from Voldemort’s giants: they ran at the giant like bull elephants, making the earth quake. Then came hooves, and the twangs of bows, and arrows were suddenly falling amongst the Death Eaters, who broke ranks, shouting their surprise.

In one swift, fluid motion Neville broke free of the Body-Bind Curse upon him; the flaming Hat fell off him and he drew from its depths something silver, with a glittering, rubied handle –

The slash of the silver blade could not be heard over the roar of the oncoming crowd, or the sounds of the clashing giants, or of the stampeding centaurs, and yet it seemed to draw every eye. With a single stroke, Neville sliced off the great snake Nagini’s head, which spun high into the air, gleaming in the light flooding from the Entrance Hall, and Voldemort’s mouth was open in a scream of fury that nobody could hear, and the snake’s body thudded to the ground at his feet –

Chaos reigned. The charging centaurs were scattering the Death Eaters, everyone was fleeing the giants’ stamping feet, and nearer and nearer thundered the reinforcements that had come from who knew where; Lyra saw great winged creatures soaring around the heads of Voldemort’s giants, Thestrals and Buckbeak the Hippogriff scratching at their eyes while the small giant punched and pummelled them; and now the wizards, defenders of Hogwarts and Voldemort’s Death Eaters alike, were being forced back into the castle. Lyra was shooting jinxes and curses at any Death Eater she could see, and they crumpled, not knowing what or who had hit them, and their bodies were trampled by the retreating crowd. She refused to release her grip on Draco’s hand as they were buffeted into the entrance hall, Pansy and Blaise close behind them.

And now there were more, even more people storming up the front steps, and Lyra saw Charlie Weasley overtaking Horace Slughorn, who was still wearing his emerald pyjamas. They seemed to have returned at the head of what looked like the families and friends of every Hogwarts student who had remained to fight, along with the shopkeepers and homeowners of Hogsmeade. The centaurs Bane, Ronan and Magorian burst into the Hall with a great clatter of hooves, as behind Lyra the door that led to the kitchens was blasted off its hinges. The house-elves of Hogwarts swarmed into the entrance hall, screaming and waving carving knives and cleavers. They were hacking and stabbing at the ankles and shins of Death Eaters, their tiny faces alive with malice, and everywhere Lyra looked Death Eaters were folding under the sheer weight of numbers, overcome by spells, dragging arrows from wounds, stabbed in the leg by elves, or else simply attempting to escape, but swallowed by the oncoming horde.

She looked around frantically for her mother or the Weasleys or Hermione. Everything was a blur around her as she stumbled along behind Draco, barely able to raise her wand to deflect spells and shoot her own towards the Death Eaters.

“Little Malfoy,” a voice suddenly growled.

Lyra was wrenched out of Draco’s grip and hauled away, blood-matted hair whipping her in her face. Her body froze as she realised Fenris Greyback held her, teeth touching her neck as he glared at where Draco, Pansy and Blaise were standing, eyes wide and wands aloft.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Greyback snarled. “One little spell and I must just _slip_ – “

He grunted unexpectedly and released Lyra, falling backwards, Stunned. Lyra ran to Draco and they looked around in surprise, trying to find who had shot the Stunning Spell.

Lyra saw Yaxley slammed to the floor by George and Lee Jordan, saw Dolohov fall with a scream at Flitwick’s hands, saw Walden Macnair thrown across the room by Hagrid, hit the stone wall opposite and slide unconscious to the ground. Aberforth Dumbledore Stunning Rookwood, Arthur and Percy flooring Thicknesse, and Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy running through the crowd, not even attempting to fight, screaming for their children.

“Draco, there!” Pansy shouted, pointing towards where their parents had disappeared. When they turned to follow, however, they couldn’t push through the crowd.

Voldemort was now duelling McGonagall, Slughorn and Kingsley Shacklebolt all at once, and there was cold hatred in his face as they wove and ducked around him, unable to finish him – Bellatrix was still fighting too, fifty yards away from Voldemort, and like her master she duelled three at once: Hermione, Ginny and Luna, all battling their hardest, but Bellatrix was equal to them, and Lyra’s attention was diverted as a Killing Curse shot so close to Ginny that she missed death by an inch – she pulled Draco in their direction, running at Bellatrix rather than their parents, but before they had gone a few steps they were knocked sideways.

“NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!” Mrs Weasley threw off her cloak as she ran, freeing her arms. Bellatrix spun on the spot, roaring with laughter at the sight of her new challenger.

“OUT OF MY WAY!” shouted Mrs Weasley to the three girls, and with a swipe of her wand she began to duel. Lyra watched with terror and elation as Molly Weasley’s wand slashed and twirled, and Bellatrix Lestrange’s smile faltered, and became a snarl. Jets of light flew from both wands, the floor around the witches’ feet became hot and cracked; both women were fighting to kill.

”No!” Mrs Weasley cried, as Lyra and Draco ran forwards, trying to come to her aid. “Get back! Get back! She is mine!” Hundreds of people now lined the walls, watching the two fights, Voldemort and his three opponents, and Bellatrix and Molly.

“What will happen to your children when I’ve killed you?” taunted Bellatrix, as mad as her master, capering as Molly’s curses danced around her. “When Mummy’s gone the same way as Freddie?”

“You – will – never – touch – our – children – again!” screamed Mrs Weasley.

Bellatrix laughed, an exhilarated laugh that spoke of her madness.

Molly’s curse soared beneath Bellatrix’s outstretched arm and hit her squarely in the chest, directly over her heart. Bellatrix’s gloating smile froze, her eyes seemed to bulge: for the tiniest space of time she knew what had happened, and then she toppled, and the watching crowd roared, and Voldemort screamed.

Lyra felt as though time slowed down; she saw McGonagall, Kingsley and Slughorn blasted backwards, flailing and writhing through the air, as Voldemort’s fury at the fall of his last, best lieutenant exploded with the force of a bomb. Voldemort raised his wand and directed it at Molly Weasley.

“ _PROTEGO_!”

The shout came out of nowhere. The Shield Charm spread across the Hall, separating Molly Weasley from Voldemort. Lyra gasped alongside the others as Harry appeared from thin air, a cloak grasped tightly in his hand.

“What the fuck is happening?” Blaise gasped from next to Lyra. “What the _fuck_!”

Harry and Voldemort circled each other as Harry went on about wands and Hallows and Horcruxes; Lyra was barely able to follow, still in shock as the silence in the Hall deafened them all. She only fully paid attention when she heard Harry say Draco’s name.

“The true master of the Elder Wand was Draco Malfoy.”

Lyra turned to her brother to see him staring at Harry in shock, a familiar dark wand held in the dark-haired boy’s hand.

“But what does it matter?” Voldemort said softly. “Even if you are right, Potter, it makes no difference to you and me. You no longer have the phoenix wand: we duel on skill alone … and after I have killed you, I can attend to Draco Malfoy…”

“But you’re too late,” said Harry. “You’ve missed your chance. I got there first. I overpowered Draco weeks ago. I took this wand from him.”

Draco choked out a laugh and muttered, “Overpowered, my arse. I practically gave him the wands.”

“So it all comes down to this, doesn’t it?” whispered Harry, his words echoing across the silent Hall. “Does the wand in your hand know its last master was Disarmed? Because if it does … I am the true master of the Elder Wand.”

A red-gold glow burst suddenly across the enchanted sky above them, as an edge of dazzling sun appeared over the sill of the nearest window. The light hit both of their faces at the same time, so that Voldemort’s was suddenly a flaming blur. Lyra heard the high voice shriek as Harry, too, yelled his best hope to the heavens, pointing Draco’s wand:

“ _Avada Kedavra_!”

“ _Expelliarmus_!”

The bang was like a cannon-blast and the golden flames that erupted between Voldemort and Harry, at the dead centre of the circle they had been treading, marked the point where the spells collided. Lyra saw Voldemort’s green jet meet Harry’s own spell, saw the apparent Elder Wand fly high, dark against the sunrise, spinning across the enchanted ceiling like the head of Nagini, spinning through the air towards the master it would not kill, who had come to take full possession of it at last. And Harry, with the unerring skill of the Seeker, caught the wand in his free hand as Voldemort fell backwards, arms splayed, the slit pupils of the scarlet eyes rolling upwards. Tom Riddle hit the floor with a mundane finality, his body feeble and shrunken, the white hands empty, the snake-like face vacant and unknowing. Voldemort was dead, killed by his own rebounding curse, and Harry stood with two wands in his hand, staring down at his enemy’s shell.

Lyra let out a great breath as the Hall broke into a tumult of noise. She threw her arms around Draco’s neck and sobbed uncontrollably into his neck, feeling his chest shudder against hers. Blaise and Pansy collapsed against them and Lyra held them all tightly, unable to believe that they were free.

But their freedom didn’t last long.

“What are you – Hey! What are you doing!” Blaise shouted, pushing against the hands that had grasped Draco and Lyra, separating them from the others.

“Our job,” a rough voice said behind Lyra. She went still as she realised that she and Draco were being held by a broad man in the dark red Auror robes. “We need to take these two into custody.”

“What? No!” Pansy cried. “Leave them alone.”

“Come with us,” the Auror holding Lyra said, pulling her away from Pansy and Blaise.

“Stop!”

The Aurors didn’t listen to Pansy’s cries and led Draco and Lyra towards the front of the Hall, where the other stray Death Eaters were sitting, hands glowing from the magical handcuffs binding them. Lucius and Narcissa were sitting together but Narcissa tried to stand when she saw Lyra and Draco. The Auror near her kept her seated with a firm hand on her shoulder.

“Mother,” Draco said in relief, not fighting as he was seated beside her. “You’re okay.”

“I was so worried,” Narcissa said, trying to reach forward to grasps their hands.

“Stop,” the Auror who had held Draco said. “They need to be cuffed.”

Lyra and Draco held their hands out without argument and watched as silvery chains linked around their wrists, securing them together tightly but not painfully.

“All of you will be escorted to the Ministry to await your trials,” another Auror said, standing at the front of the group. “Don’t bother trying to escape. You’ll all be resting in Azkaban cells before the month is out.”

“That, or you’ll get the Kiss,” laughed another, younger Auror. “But that’s the least of what you scum deserve.”

Lyra held her head high as they were ordered to their feet. They were led out of the Hall and the last thing Lyra saw was Pansy and Blaise watching them with grief-stricken faces as the people behind them celebrated the start of a new era.

* * *

*Translation: Safe and sound in your eternal sleep, my dear, because the world will no longer hurt you*


	5. Chapter Five - Grimmauld Place

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear this fic started killing me around this point

Harry fidgeted in his seat, his hands clenching and unclenching the stiff fabric of his new formal robes. He hadn’t bothered to wear them before and he was sincerely regretting not at least casting a bloody softening charm or something so that the collar didn’t irritate his throat.

“Harry, stop that,” Hermione hissed, putting her hands over his. “You’re going to wrinkle them.”

“I think wrinkled robes are the least of my problems right now,” muttered Harry, eyeing the other side of the courtroom where robed figures waited impatiently for the trail to start.

“Nonsense, Potter,” scoffed Pansy Parkinson from Harry’s other side. “Appearance is one of the most important things when presenting a case. If you look important and elegant, these old bastards will be more likely to take you seriously.”

“That and the fact that you’re Harry Potter,” Ron added, leaning across Hermione to address Harry.

“Shut up,” said Harry. “When is this bloody thing meant to start? We’ve been waiting for ages already!”

As if his words had summoned them, the doors to the courtroom suddenly opened and two figures were led inside, magically chains binding their ankles and wrists.

“Oh, Merlin…” Blaise breathed. He was sitting beside Pansy and when Harry looked at the other boy, he saw that his usually dark face was extremely pale.

Hermione and Pansy both had their mouths covered by their hands, eyes wide as they watched the emancipated figures shuffle forwards. Even Ron looked slightly ill at their appearances.

Lyra and Draco were led to the seats in the middle of the room and chains jumped up and wrapped around their wrists the moment they were seated. Harry watched, horror flowing through him, as Lyra and Draco barely reacted to the chains, they barely even blinked.

“What did they do to them?” he asked the others. “They hardly look lucid.”

“You of all people know what the Dementors are like, Potter,” Pansy answered quietly.

“But I thought they were being kept in the Ministry!” Harry continued. “No one said anything about Azkaban.”

“Harry, be quiet,” Hermione said urgently. “It’s starting.”

Harry snapped his attention to the front of the room, where Kingsley, who had been declared Minister, was sitting with the other leaders of the Wizengamot. Kingsley cleared his voice and all remaining noise fades away, leaving the room in expectant silence.

“Court scribes, the date is June 11th, 1998. The trial for Draco Lucius Malfoy and Lyra Evangeline Malfoy is about to commence,” Kingsley’s deep voice boomed. “They are accused of being Marked Death Eaters, active participants in the murder of Albus Dumbledore, and charged with various other accounts of terrorism, torture and murder.”

Excited chitters echoed across the room but neither Lyra nor Draco reacted. Kingsley looked down at the twins, a flash of sympathy crossing his face.

“If found guilty,” he said, “you both will be sentenced to remain in Azkaban for the rest of your life and your magic will be bound.”

Draco flinched imperceptibly and Harry felt his heart thud in his chest.

“If anyone wishes to speak up,” Kingsley went on, “now is the time to do so.”

Harry wiped his sweaty palms on his thighs and stood up.

“I will,” he said, relieved that his voice didn’t shake.

Angry faces turned to look at him but he ignored them, walking calmly down to the witness section of the courtroom. He turned to look at Draco and Lyra’s thin, blank faces.

And then he began to speak.

***

Harry, Hermione, Ron, Pansy and Blaise stood in the sitting room of Malfoy Manor, anxiously waiting for Lyra and Draco to arrive home with Narcissa.

The Wizengamot had been furious with the testimonies of Harry and the others, even George and Mrs Weasley had spoken up for the twins. Yet, at the end, they could not deny that Lyra and Draco had defected from Voldemort and that only unfortunate circumstances kept them from leaving the Death Eaters. The day at the Manor, as well as Narcissa lying to Voldemort about Harry being dead, ensured that the three Malfoys walked. Lucius, however, would remain in Azkaban until he died.

Harry had wanted to stay at the Ministry until everything was finalised, but Kingsley had sent them all home, stating that it would take a while for the Malfoys to be ready to leave.

At last, the Floo flared green and Lyra stepped through, closely followed by Draco and Narcissa. Pansy immediately jumped forward and embraced Lyra, who raised her arms as if in a daze and put them around the smaller girl. Blaise pulled Draco’s thin body close to his broad chest, murmuring something Harry couldn’t hear.

Instead, he turned to Narcissa, who was looking thin and wan, but relaxed.

“Mr Potter,” she said, her voice still slightly rough. “I believe it is to you whom I should express my gratitude.”

“Er…that’s really not necessary, Mrs Malfoy,” Harry said awkwardly, running a hand through his hair. “I mean, I couldn’t just let Lyra and Draco go to Azkaban. And…well…you didn’t tell Voldemort I was alive…”

Everyone except Ron and Hermione flinched at the name. Hermione quickly stepped forward.

“Is there anything we can do?” she asked. “I can’t imagine what the last few weeks have been like.”

“Take your worst nightmares and amplify them, Granger,” Draco croaked out, an arm over Pansy’s shoulders. “I’m sure you can imagine something close enough.”

“I hate to say it, but I think she’s standing in her worst nightmare,” Lyra added in an emotionless voice.

There was an awkward beat of silence.

“Way to bring down the mood, Lyra,” Blaise muttered, tapping her arm.

Lyra turned to face him and the corners of her lips flicked upwards. Harry felt relief rush through him. He hadn’t realised how worried he had been that it was too late – that both of them were too far gone from the Dementors. To see Lyra nearly smile made Harry want to smile himself.

“Can’t have you always being the most depressing, can we, Blaise?” Lyra went on, her voice very, very quiet. “Gotten laid yet?”

“Lyra, if you would refrain from speaking so crudely,” Narcissa said, but even she was struggling not to smile. Pansy was a bright pink from under Draco’s arm.

“Not that we don’t appreciate this welcoming committee,” Draco said lowly, “But I would much rather have a shower and a nap before we have any intense conversations.”

“I have to second that,” Lyra croaked.

“I can have one of the elves check that your rooms are ready,” Narcissa said but Lyra stopped her.

“Mother, I would prefer not to sleep here,” she said quietly. “Too many memories.”

“Right,” Narcissa said. “Then, I’m sure Pansy – “

“You can sleep at my place.”

Harry spoke without thinking. All heads turned towards him.

“Er…” he said eloquently.

“You didn’t think that offer through did you, P-Potter?” Draco said, grasping his chest as a coughing fit began to wrack it. He bent double as he coughed violently, Pansy trying to keep him standing. Once finished, he straightened and wiped his hand across his mouth, his lips stained slightly red.

“I mean it,” Harry said firmly. “You can stay at my place. I have heaps of room. And once you’ve slept, we can get a Healer to look at you.”

“Are you sure, mate?” Ron said quietly to him. “The place is a mess.”

“Well, it’s the best I’ve got,” Harry replied. He turned back to the Slytherins. “So?” he asked.

***

“Your house is very…interesting…” Lyra said when the last of them had stepped out of the fireplace at Grimmauld Place.

“You can say horrid, Lyra,” Pansy snickered. “I don’t think Potter will mind.”

“Parkinson’s right,” Ron said. “This place is horrible. I’m surprised Harry’s lasted this long.”

“Is this not the old Black house?” Narcissa asked, standing primly on the old, probably flea-ridden rug. “Auntie Wulburga’s house?”

“Er…” Harry said.

Hermione rolled her eyes at him. “You forgot they were related, didn’t you, Harry?”

“Maybe…?” he shrugged. “Never mind that now. Kreacher!” The ugly, old house elf appeared in the room with a loud _crack_!

“Master called?” he said in his low, bullfrog voice. He rose his head and caught sight of Narcissa, Lyra and Draco. “Mistress Cissy? Master Draco? Mistress Lyra?” His bulbous eyes teared up and he dropped into a low bow, his long nose brushing the floor. “How can Kreacher be serving you?”

Harry gaped at his elf, who was completely ignoring him. He exchanged a glance with Ron, who looked like he was struggling not to burst into laughter.

“Kreacher,” Narcissa said. “I’m surprised to see you still here.”

“Kreacher will stay here until his head sits on the wall alongside his ancestors,” Kreacher said solemnly.

Blaise let out an interesting, strained cough and turned away.

“I think some clean bedrooms will do for now,” Narcissa said with a slight smirk. “And some dinner.”

“At once, Mistress,” Kreacher said. He bowed and then Disapparated.

“We better be getting back to the Burrow, mate,” Ron said, clapping Harry on the shoulder. “You know what Mum’s like.”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Harry said.

“We’ll see you on Sunday, right?” Hermione asked, giving Harry a quick hug.

“Of course,” he replied.

Hermione smiled brightly and then turned to the Slytherins. She hesitated for a moment before hugging Lyra tightly.

“I’m glad you’re back,” she said sincerely. She nodded at Draco, Pansy, Blaise and Narcissa before following Ron through the Floo in a flash of green fire.

“So…” Harry said into the silence. “Um, food first or showers?”

Lyra and Draco looked at each other.

“Showers,” they said in unison.

“Brilliant. Bathrooms are this way,” Harry said, leading the way out of the room.

Half an hour later, Lyra and Draco joined Harry, Pansy and Blaise in the kitchen, surprisingly edible bowls of stew in front of them. Harry looked up when they arrived and was pleased to note that some colour had come back into their faces and their hair wasn’t looking as stringy as it had been.

“Where’s Narcissa?” Pansy asked, handing Lyra a bowl. Harry quickly gave one to Draco as well as a glass of water.

“She got Kreacher to bring her food to her room,” Lyra replied, eating the stew in small spoonful’s. “She’s going to retire early today.”

“Are you feeling better?” Harry asked them anxiously. “Can I get you anything?”

“We don’t need your charity, Potter,” Draco said stiffly. Lyra glared at him and Draco added, “But thank you for your hospitality.”

“You’re not charity cases,” Harry said. “I’m serious about wanting to help you.”

“He just means that we already owe you enough,” Lyra explained. “You kept us out of Azkaban and now you’ve given us a place to stay.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” Harry emphasised. “You’re my friends and I would have helped you even if you weren’t. No one deserves to go through what you did.”

“Are we?” Draco asked quietly.

“What?”

“Are we friends?” Draco elaborated. “Because a year ago we were enemies.”

“A lot can change in a year, Draco,” Harry said lowly. “And I thought we were heading in the right direction in sixth year.”

There was a beat of silence where Draco seemed to consider his words. It was broken by Lyra putting her fork down and saying as brightly as she could, “Well, I for one am not going to dismiss the opportunity to claim Harry Potter as my friend.” She looked at Harry and her tone became more genuine. “For the record, I do think we were friends, Harry.”

Harry smiled widely at her. After another bout of silence, he cleared his throat and said, “You’re all welcome to stay as long as you need to. Kreacher can get some clothes for you from the Manor if you need?”

“Blaise and I won’t be staying, Potter,” Pansy said primly. “We’ll leave tomorrow after these two have been examined by a Healer.”

Draco and Lyra frowned slightly at their friends but didn’t say anything. Harry nodded at the dark-haired girl.

“Okay,” he said, “Well, feel free to drop by whenever you want. I’ve altered the wards to let you both in.”

Pansy and Blaise looked genuinely shocked.

“That was a surprisingly thoughtful gesture, Potter,” Blaise drawled.

“Well, it’s been known to happen occasionally,” Harry smirked. “Besides, this was the place that I had promised to open for you at the end of sixth year.”

The four Slytherins looked around the dingy kitchen, each wearing identical disgusted expressions.

“Honestly, I’m somewhat glad we were never trapped in this place,” Lyra said. “At least the Manor has class.”

“And it was clean,” Draco added.

Harry flushed in embarrassment. “I’ve only been staying here recently,” he admitted. “And Kreacher doesn’t like me very much. But one of my goals was to get this place tidied up a bit, maybe change some of the decorations.”

“That is a task I will willingly help you with,” Lyra promised. “I don’t know how long I can stare at those moulding walls before I curse them off.”

“Excellent,” Harry said brightly. “Right, well, Kreacher will show you to your rooms once you’re done. I think I’ll have an early night.”

He rose from the old wooden table and walked towards the door. Before he could exit, however, Lyra called out to him.

“Harry,” she said, a small smile stretching her thin face, “thank you.”

Harry smiled at her in return and then turned around, disappearing up the staircase.

***

Draco let a smile spread across his face as he watched Lyra gleefully tear down another strip of the hideous wallpaper covering one of the bedrooms at Grimmauld Place. The two months they had spent here had done them both good. They were no longer skeletal thin and pale, healthy colour had returned to their faces and they were able to stomach nearly three full meals. They had also been sleeping better, even since their mother had suggested seeing a Mind Healer to help deal with the lasting impacts of the Dementors. It had taken the combined efforts of Pansy, Blaise, his mother and Lyra to drag Draco to the appointment.

He had to admit that he wasn’t hating them as much as he thought he would.

Lyra let out a yelp as a piece of wallpaper broke halfway up the wall and smacked her in the face. Beside her, Harry let out a loud bark of laughter, narrowly dodging a bit of plaster thrown at him.

That was something that their stay at Grimmauld Place had improved. The burgeoning friendship that had been started between Lyra, Draco and Harry in sixth year had finally been allowed to continue. Draco couldn’t help but ponder over whether they would have been like this if sixth year hadn’t gone to shit.

A loud explosion of dust brought Draco out of his thoughts and he turned to see both Lyra and Harry collapsed in a pile of plaster which had toppled from the roof. He snickered loudly at their white figures as they sat in a daze, blinking stupidly at each other.

“That’s what you get for not paying attention,” he said smugly. “Just be lucky the entire roof didn’t drop on your heads.”

“Ah, Harry would have been fine,” Lyra smirked, somehow still looking elegant and put-together while covered in plaster dust and paper. “We all know how hard-headed he is.”

“Oi!” said boy shouted, throwing a handful of plaster at Lyra. He laughed and shook his dark head, sending little flakes of white floating down to the ground. Harry glanced up at Draco, his green eyes bright and happy behind his dirty glasses, and Draco felt his breath catch slightly. He could not deny that Harry was extremely attractive.

The problem was that the more that Draco acknowledged it, the more he… _felt_ things.

“Oi, stop looking like a statue,” Lyra shouted at him, effectively drawing his eyes away from Harry’s grinning face. “Come help us, you lazy arse.”

“As much as I’d love to,” Draco lied, “Pansy should be arriving any minute and I don’t want to be covered in plaster.”

“Ohhh,” Lyra said, nodding suddenly. “You’re getting the _thing_ today, aren’t you?”

“The thing?” Harry asked, face scrunching up in confusion. “What thing?”

“Never you mind, Potter,” Draco said airily. “Have fun bringing the roof down.”

He waved over his shoulder and sauntered away, trying to push images of green eyes and bright smiles from his mind.

***

“What thing were you talking about?” Harry asked Lyra when Draco had disappeared.

She smirked to herself and turned away from him. “That’s for me to know and you to find out,” she said.

“I don’t see why we couldn’t go with him,” Harry went on, picking at a piece of plaster. “I know you guys are still hesitant about going out alone.”

“Draco’s a big boy, he can take care of himself,” Lyra assured him. “Besides, he’s got Pansy with him and she wouldn’t let anyone without a foot of him.”

Harry frowned and Lyra tilted her head to observe him. It almost looked like he was… _disappointed_.

“Harry, are you all right?” she asked. “You’ve been quieter recently.”

“What? Oh, I’m fine,” he answered.

“Is this about Ginny?” she said carefully.

Harry scowled deeply.

Lyra hadn’t yet forgiven the other girl for how she had acted when Harry told her he wasn’t interested in pursuing a relationship with her. Apparently, they had gotten closer during sixth year but Harry had been adamant with his decisions. Ginny hadn’t taken it well. She had screamed at him loud enough to draw Lyra and Draco down from their rooms, with the twins arriving just in time to see the redheaded girl slap Harry full across the face and call him a “self-righteous bastard who never thought about anyone other than himself.”

Harry hadn’t visited the Burrow once since then.

“No, it isn’t about Ginny,” he replied. “Although, I’m still not too keen on going to the Burrow for my birthday. Are you sure we can’t just stay here and maybe invite Ron and Hermione?”

Lyra shuffled forward and placed a dirty hand on Harry’s shoulder.

“Harry, you know how much Molly wants to see you and it’s not her fault that her daughter is a jealous bint.” Harry snorted slightly and then coughed. Lyra continued, “Besides, you should spend your birthday with your family. It’s not every day you turn eighteen.”

Lyra and Draco had spent their birthday alone in cells in Azkaban and she couldn’t help but want to make sure Harry had a good birthday to make up for it.

Harry’s eyes softened slightly, as though he could tell where her mind went. He reached across and gripped one of her hands tightly.

“Don’t think you and Draco can escape it,” he warned. “Andromeda’s bringing Teddy and you know how much that boy loves you.”

“He’s barely four months old, Potter, he’ll hardly remember us,” Lyra said, secretly smiling to herself.

“How’s your mother?” Harry asked as they started cleaning up the plaster around them.

“Very well,” Lyra replied. “Aunty Andie was saying that she’s taken up knitting. Apparently, Molly left an impact on her since her last visit.”

Lyra thought that the image of her mother surrounded by different coloured wool, knitting needles clacking as Teddy crawled on the floor, was quite hilarious.

“Don’t change the topic,” Lyra said, eyeing Harry pointedly. “What’s wrong, Potter? You’re not as good at hiding your emotions as you think.”

Unexpectedly, Harry blushed violently. “Nothing’s wrong,” he said.

“You’re lying,” sang Lyra, stalking closer. “Tell me or I’ll have to force it out of you.”

“No – stop – Ah! – What are you – Ahaha!” Harry collapsed to the floor as Lyra tackled him, tickling any part of him she could reach.

A cough sounded from the doorway and they froze.

“Am I interrupting something?” George’s amused voice said.

Lyra looked down at where she was straddling Harry’s hips and quickly threw herself off, both of them yammering at the same time.

“It’s not what it looks like!”

“We weren’t doing that, promise!”

“I’m pretty sure I’m gay!”

They all froze at Harry’s words and Lyra turned to see that the young man was slowly turning a bright red.

“Well,” George said in surprise. “Congratulations.”

“I – er – “ Harry floundered, looking completely flabbergasted.

“I think we ought to give Harry a moment to think of his sudden revelation,” Lyra said, quickly walking over to George and grabbing his arm. “Harry, try not to overthink this, okay?”

She only got a strangled noise in response.

As she and George walked toward the sitting room Floo, he suddenly laughed and said, “I’m surprised it took him that long to realise.”

Lyra smacked him on the arm. “Don’t tell me you guessed.”

“Well, he’s the most oblivious guy,” George explained. “And he’s literally been living with a smoking hot girl for months and the only person he has eyes for is her brother.”

“He does stare at Draco quite a lot,” Lyra agreed, finding her shoes amongst the pile left by the door. Harry still didn’t seem to understand the importance of organisation. “Although, Draco stares back just as often.”

“I think those two just need to shag,” George announced. “It’ll help clear up any uncertainties.”

“I am _not_ going to encourage my brother to shag our friend if it has the potential to hurt him,” Lyra said, frowning at George. “You know that he’s always admired Harry. That’s part of why he hated him so much when we were younger.”

“That and the fact that he was a spoilt prick,” George added with a smirk.

“Oh, shut up, you wanker,” Lyra said with a reluctant smile. “What brings you here anyway?”

“I was going to ask if you could help out at the store for a few hours?” George said. “Verity went home with a cold.”

“All right,” Lyra agreed. “But you’re paying me double.”

“You’re not worth that much,” George teased with a grin.

“Say that again and you’ll have to find another unwilling victim to help you out,” warned Lyra, slapping George lightly across the back of the head as she stepped into the Floo.

***

Harry, meanwhile, was having a slight panic attack.

 _Did I really just say that_? He thought. Oh, Merlin. It wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about it before. His disastrous interactions with Cho and Ginny were a really big warning sign, as well as the unfortunate fact that Harry had never really been interested in girl talk.

Well, that and the fact that Draco Malfoy looked _really_ good standing in nothing but a towel.

Harry couldn’t help but remember the morning a few weeks ago when he had collided with Draco outside the bathroom, the blonde’s hair and chest still slightly wet from his shower. Harry’s attention had immediately been drawn to a single droplet of water making its way down the other boy’s pale skin and it was then that Harry had realised that Draco was standing in front of him in only a towel. It wasn’t like Harry had never seen another boy shirtless before, it was simply the fact that none of them had looked like _this_ – like they had been carved from pale marble.

“Sorry, Potter.”

Those two words had snapped Harry out of his trance and he had promptly felt his face flush bright red before simply doing what any insane person would do in that situation.

He ran.

Since then, he hadn’t been able to get the image of Draco’s glistening, pale chest out of his mind, no matter how much he tried to forget about it.

He hadn’t thought too hard about what that _meant_ exactly, but he had begun to take notice of different things. For example, Lyra was an extremely pretty young woman. Her grey eyes complimented her white-blonde hair and it wasn’t as if she wasn’t well-endowed. He just never felt the need to stare at her chest, like he had caught Ron doing on more than one occasion. Hermione, too, was pretty but the thought of doing anything remotely romantic with her just felt wrong; like kissing a sister or something. The one and only time Ginny had tried to kiss Harry had resulted in him jumping back so fast that he slammed painfully into the wall. She had looked offended but the mere thought of her touching him like that had caused his heart to race in panic.

The problem, however, had only increased when Pansy and Blaise had decided to drop by one day. Harry couldn’t help but notice how Blaise’s dark skin shone in the sun and how pretty his perfect smile was. That had inadvertently led Harry’s thoughts back to another set of silver eyes that lit up brightly whenever Draco smiled.

 _Okay_ , he thought, _so maybe I am bent_.

Step one complete: acceptance.

Which led to the current step he was in: complete and utter panic.

On the surface, he knew that there was nothing wrong with being gay. Seamus and Dean had been making eyes at each other for the last two years and no one cared. Harry also knew that Terry Boot was known to sleep with both males and females. It wasn’t like Harry thought it was _wrong_.

But sometimes, deep inside him, he couldn’t help but remember his Uncle’s cruel comments about people on TV. Harry knew that his Uncle’s opinions were worth less than centaur shit but it didn’t stop the niggling little voice in the back of his mind from telling him that he was a freak, _abnormal_.

“I’m not a freak,” Harry said aloud.

“Stop talking to yourself then,” the bathroom mirror said back.

Harry glowered at it and left the room, walking into his bedroom and collapsing onto his bed. He let out a loud groan of misery and stuffed his face into the pillows.

Why couldn’t his life be simple for once? Why couldn’t he have just fallen in love with Ginny and gone and had the perfect life complete with kids, house and a dog, like everyone expected of him.

 _Because that would be boring_ , he thought.

It was times like these that he wished Sirius or Remus were still alive. He would give anything to be able to go and talk to either of them about this. It wasn’t like he could walk up to Mr or Mrs Weasley and say, “Hi, I think I’m bent. Any advice?”

Yeah, Harry didn’t think that would go well.

But who _could_ he talk to?

Hermione would be more than willing to help. She would probably come back with a pile of books about gay stuff and pamphlets talking about accepting yourself.

Yep, Hermione was out.

Talking to Ron about it would be horribly uncomfortable and he’d probably ask if Harry had ever been attracted to him. That also ruled out Neville, Seamus and Dean.

His answer was provided for him when Lyra burst into his room, beaming from ear to ear.

“So, darling, did you figure out your little epiphany?” she said brightly, closing the door tightly behind her. “Draco and Pans are downstairs talking about boys so I thought I ought to do my part and chat with you.”

“Draco’s talking about boys?” Harry said, frowning in confusion. Draco must have been a really good friend to Pansy.

Lyra rolled her eyes and gave Harry a look that seemed to scream _idiot_.

“Enough about Draco,” she said, dramatically flinging herself onto the bed in an eerily similar way to how Harry had done previously. “More about Harry Potter and his gay revelation. Have you been thinking about it the last few hours?”

Harry looked out the window and was surprised to see that the sun was setting. He hadn’t even realised how much time had passed.

“Er…yeah, I have been,” he replied, sitting against the headboard and grabbing a pillow to hug to his chest.

“So?” Lyra asked.

“So what?” Harry said dumbly.

“Oh Merlin, you are such an idiot sometimes,” breathed Lyra. “ _So_ , are you gay?”

“Oh.” Harry blinked. “Yes. I think I am.”

Lyra clapped and squealed excitedly. Harry was extremely happy to see her slowly returning to her normal self, the horrors of the Dementors being left behind her.

“I’m happy for you!” she said sincerely. “It must have been difficult, accepting that.”

“How did you know?” he asked her.

She smiled slyly. “You’re not the only person I know who’s gone through a gay crisis.”

“And how well did it turn out for them?” Harry asked.

Lyra just smirked.

“But seriously now,” she said, dropping her smirk. “Do you want to talk about it all?”

Harry hesitated for a moment. “It’s – well…It’s not _weird_ in the Wizarding World, is it? Being…gay…”

Lyra looked extremely confused. “Of course not,” she said, frowning slightly. Her eyes suddenly lit with recognition. “Muggles have a problem with it, don’t they?” she asked.

Harry nodded and ran a hand through his hair.

“That makes sense then,” Lyra said, almost to herself. She smiled reassuringly at Harry. “The only people who have any problems with homosexuality are the stuffy pureblood families who are focused on reproduction. But most of them would still allow the person to take a lover as long as they produced an heir first.”

“So, there’s really no problem with it?” Harry checked.

Lyra shook her head. “None at all. You’re no different from any other person in any other relationship. You roomed with Finnigan and Thomas, I thought you would have known this?”

Harry shrugged. “I didn’t know that it was okay,” he admitted. “I just knew that personally, I didn’t have a problem with it.”

“Well, you’re welcome to talk to me anytime you need or want to, okay?” Lyra said. “I’m sure Draco would be welcome to asking any questions you had either.”

“Draco?” Harry asked. And then the knut dropped. “ _Draco’s bent_?”

Lyra just stared at him, unimpressed.

“Honestly, Potter,” she sighed. “If you were any more clueless people may start to worry that Voldemort screwed with your head.”

Harry decided that conversation could wait to be held until another time.

“How could you _not_ know Draco was bent?” Lyra said in exasperation. “He hasn’t been keeping it a well-hidden secret!”

“I – I don’t know!” Harry said defensively. “It’s not like he’s been going around snogging blokes in the hallways.”

“No, he just did that under the Quidditch bleachers,” Lyra said.

Harry’s jaw dropped open and Lyra burst into laughter.

“I’m _joking_ , Harry, honestly,” she giggled, shaking her head. “Draco’s known for years. But have you _seen_ him? He practically screams gay with all the hair products he uses.”

“I thought he just liked being put together,” Harry said in a quiet voice.

“Well, of course, he does,” Lyra said. “And I’m not saying that every gay bloke or bird is going to be intensely interested in fashion and personal grooming or any of those stereotypes. But Draco practically oozes homosexuality. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“What does that make me then?” Harry asked. “In the gay scale.”

“ _Gay scale_ ,” mouthed Lyra in disbelief. She shook her head and said, “Honestly, Potter. You’d be a disaster gay. No question about it.”

Harry threw the pillow at her.

***

“So how did Ron and Hermione take Harry’s news?” George asked Lyra as she twirled a pen around her fingers.

It was two weeks after Harry and Lyra’s conversation and a day since he had gotten the courage to tell his best friends. Lyra was currently working with George in his shop but out of the two of them, she seemed to be doing the most work.

“They took it fine,” she said, glaring at George when he went to steal one of her pineapple pieces. “Didn’t seem to be any obvious shouting.”

“Good, good,” George said around a mouthful of pineapple, nodding his head. “I would hate to have to punch my little brother.”

“Liar,” Lyra muttered. “And stop eating my fucking pineapple.”

A nearby mother looked at her indignantly and took her child’s hand, leading them away from the counter.

“Nice,” George snorted, “scaring away my customers now.”

“With the amount of work I’m doing, they’re my customers,” Lyra said.

“You should be honoured that I’m gracing you with my presence,” George said. “Didn’t Draco kick you out of the house because you wouldn’t let him read in peace?”

Lyra stuck her tongue out at him.

“You and Draco still coming to the Burrow on Saturday?” George asked, propping his feet up on the counter. A stray Wizz Bang cartwheeled over his head and he absentmindedly batted it away. “Mum will be angry if you don’t.”

“Will your brother be there?” she replied with a sly smile. George grimaced and threw a balled-up piece of paper at her.

“I really wish you’d never met Charlie,” he groaned. “Then I wouldn’t have to hear you go on about how attractive he is.”

“It’s not my fault he and Bill got all the handsome genes in the family,” Lyra said with a smirk. She had met the dragon tamer a month ago at a Burrow Sunday lunch that George had dragged her along to. Since then, she made it a habit to mention him to George whenever she could.

“I think he’d be a great shag,” she continued. “He looks like he knows how to use his hands.”

She shrieked as George sent a Stinging Hex at her.

“Bastard,” she muttered.

“Stop talking about shagging my brother,” George said, twirling his wand around threateningly. “What happened to that Theo guy, anyway? I thought you were dating him.”

Lyra scowled deeply and George leant forward, suddenly interested.

“Oh, do tell,” he said.

“Theo and I broke up last year,” Lyra said angrily. “Turns out he had been engaged to Daphne Greengrass since the Christmas holidays of our sixth year. He didn’t even bother to tell me. I had to find out through my aunt mentioning it in the summer. Let’s just say that that bastard has steered clear of me since.”

George cringed and said, “Damn, Lyra. I’m sorry.”

She waved her hand dismissively. “It’s the past. I hope he’s happy with the daft bimbo.”

George snickered. “You need to watch your language in my joke store, Lyra. I might just have to fire you.”

“You’d never,” she replied. “You like me too much.”

“You’ve grown on me,” George conceded. He opened his mouth to say something else but was interrupted by the arrival of Verity. The energetic blond practically bounced over to them, kissing them both on the cheeks with a flourish.

“Morning, guys!” she said brightly. “How many parents has Lyra scandalised today?”

“At least five,” George answered, as Lyra cried in an indignant voice, “Oi!”

Verity laughed uproariously and shook her head at them.

“How you two function without me is a mystery,” she said. Suddenly, her face brightened. “Oh! And guess who I saw walking down the street looking like an absolute _snack_?”

Lyra rolled her eyes, already knowing the answer before Verity said excitedly, “Your brother, Lyra. I swear, that boy gets more stunning every time I see him.”

“I don’t know how many times I’m going to have to tell you this, Verity,” Lyra said with a world-weary sigh, “but Draco is as bent as they come.”

Verity pouted. “I know and woe to all womenkind. But that’s not all.” She paused dramatically as Lyra and George looked at her expectantly. “He was with none other than _Harry freaking Potter_!”

“Oh, I wonder what they’re doing?” Lyra said.

“You can ask them yourself,” George said, nodding over her shoulder. “They just walked through the door.”

“Wait! You know Harry Potter?” Verity gasped, scowling at Lyra’s less than excited response.

“We live with him,” Lyra replied distractedly, turning around and looking for Draco’s signature hair.

“You – _what_?” Verity hissed. “And why am I only hearing about this now? You’ve been here for a month!”

Lyra looked back at the other girl and raised an eyebrow. “I think you can warrant a guess for why I haven’t mentioned it before.”

She turned away as Verity began to lay into George about the entire thing. Her face split into a wide smile as she finally caught sight of the distinctive white-blonde hair the exact same shade as her own. Draco looked up at that moment and caught her eye, smiling in return. He grasped Harry’s arm and pointed at where she was. The pair began to fight their way through the crowded store towards the counter.

“Hey, Ly,” Draco said as they arrived in front of them. “Hello, more tolerable Weasley and girl I do not know the name of.”

“Draco, don’t be rude,” Lyra chided. “I’ve told you about Verity.”

Draco’s face suddenly split into a smirk. He turned to Verity and smiled his most dazzling smile. She went slightly pink. “Ah, so you’re the one who Lyra tells me offers the most exquisite compliments. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“You’re even more attractive up close,” Verity said shamelessly. “If you ever decide you want to take a chance with girls, send me an owl.”

Two pink spots appeared on the top of Draco’s cheekbones.

“Verity, stop coming on to the poor boy,” George said. “Come on, let’s leave these three alone. Good to see you, Harry, Draco.”

“Bye George,” Harry said with a bright smile. “Nice to meet you, Verity.”

Verity complained loudly as George lead her away, demanding to know why she was being robbed of the opportunity to stare at not one but _two_ attractive boys.

“Sorry about her,” Lyra said. “She takes some getting used to.”

“Reminds me a bit of Pansy, actually,” Harry observed. “I can never tell if that girl likes me or not.”

“Well, you haven’t been hexed yet, Potter, so I say that’s a good sign,” Draco smirked.

“So, what can I do for you two fellas?” Lyra asked. “Unless you’re here to browse the products and _not_ for my lovely company?

Draco came and propped himself up on the counter beside her and Lyra didn’t miss the way that Harry’s eyes snagged on the thin strip of skin that revealed itself as Draco’s shirt rode up slightly.

“Well, I wanted to see if you were free to get lunch with me today and Potter asked if he could come along,” Draco explained. “Apparently, he’s avoiding Granger and Weasley.”

“Oh?” Lyra said, tilting her head at Harry. “What are you running from this time?”

Harry grimaced. “Hermione wants to talk feelings,” he said with a shudder. “She’s done a ton of research and wanted to go over it with me. So, let’s just say that I wanted to be unreachable today.”

“Sounds fair,” Lyra said. “I’ll just check with George. You’re lucky, Verity just arrived so I can probably take the rest of the afternoon off.”

“Excellent,” Draco said with a wide smile. “That means we can go shopping for new clothes for Potter.”

“My clothes are fine, thank you very much,” Harry argued weakly.

Both Lyra and Draco looked at him with identical raised eyebrows and he wilted.

“All right, fine,” he acquiesced. “I’ll let you help me.”

Lyra clapped her hands together excitedly. “Brilliant! I’ll be right back.”

***

Harry’s knee bounced up and down repeatedly as he sat on the couch waiting impatiently for Lyra and Draco to come downstairs so they could all leave for the Burrow. He had managed to convince Molly to have only a small gathering for dinner; all Harry really wanted to do was sit in his newly renovated sitting room and drink copious amounts of firewhiskey while trying to deny the fact that he was currently _extremely_ attracted to Draco Malfoy.

At last, footsteps sounded on the stairs and Lyra bounded into the room.

“Are you seriously telling me that it took you that long to get ready only for you to wear _that_?” Harry demanded.

Lyra smirked and dropped beside him on the couch. She was wearing a long, dusty pink skirt that was shorter at the front and seemed to float on the air matched with a white, baggy, V-neck crop top. Her hair was piled on top of her head without a care and she didn’t even have any makeup or jewellery.

Harry gaped at her in disbelief.

Lyra let out a tinkling laugh and said, “It wasn’t me that took so long.”

And then Harry’s current fixation stepped into the room. Harry couldn’t help his jaw open slightly as he took in the long legs clad in tight denim and the strong forearms poking out of – wait a minute.

“Is that my shirt?” Harry asked.

“Well, I don’t own anything this casual,” Draco answered as if it were normal for them to share clothes. He picked at the grey fabric which Harry hadn’t realised matched his eyes so perfectly until that moment.

 _Stop it,_ Harry said to himself. He had to get his act together and stop acting like such an affected mess.

“Is that okay?” Draco continued, frowning slightly. “I can go find something else – “

“No!” Harry said quickly, ignoring Lyra’s amused snort. “No, it’s fine. You – you look good.”

The top of Draco’s cheekbones tinged pink. “Thanks, Potter.”

“Right, we should get going!” Lyra said suddenly, jumping to her feet. “Harry, lead on, darling. Should soothe the masses hopefully,” she added in an undertone, the only indication of her worry.

“Yes! Let’s go!” Harry agreed. His face was still burning and he wanted to get away from Draco as fast as he could. He hurried to the Floo and threw the powder into the fireplace, glancing over his shoulder briefly before he stepped in. The image of Lyra struggling not to laugh while Draco looked at her in confusion remained with him as he tumbled out into the Burrow’s living room.

“Harry, dear!” He was immediately pulled to his feet by Mrs Weasley and squashed into a hug. She smelt of fresh cookies and tea. It was so familiar that Harry let himself sink into the comfort she provided for just a moment.

“It’s so good to see you,” Mrs Weasley continued, holding him at arm’s length to look at him properly. “Are you sure you’re eating enough? You’re still thin. I’ll have to send you back with some leftovers.”

“I’m fine, really,” Harry tried to say, but Lyra and Draco had just stepped through the Floo and Mrs Weasley’s attention was diverted. Harry decided it was time for a tactical retreat and subtly left the room, emerging into the brightly lit garden.

He stood in shocked silence for a moment as he took in the lights floating above everyone’s heads and the multiple tables heaped with food. Ron caught sight of him and marched over, a face breaking out over his freckly face.

“Hey mate,” he said, clamping a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Where are the blonds?”

“Getting greeted by your mum,” Harry replied.

“Good luck to them, I say,” Ron said. “Come on, the food’s good.”

“You always think that,” Harry said, shaking his head but following his best mate regardless.

“That’s because it always is,” Ron said with a grin.

Harry was sitting beside Mr Weasley when the backdoor opened and Mrs Weasley walked through, leading the twins and talking quickly at them over her shoulder, her arms piled high with more platters of food.

George caught sight of the new arrivals and bounded forward to greet them, lifting Lyra up into a spinning hug that caused her skirt to flap around her legs.

“She’s been good for him,” Mr Weasley said from beside Harry. The redheaded man watched the pair joke around with a small smile on his face. He leant closer to Harry. “I don’t know if George would have held up as well as he has without her, if I’m honest.”

“I think it’s the same for her,” Harry said. “Lyra’s been really happy helping out at the store.”

“That’s good to hear,” said Mr Weasley. “And how are you holding up? You and Draco?”

“We’re good,” Harry replied, trying to stop the blush that he could feel threatening to creep up his neck. “I’m not too sure what we’re going to do once summer’s over, though.”

“Oh, haven’t you heard?” Mr Weasley asked brightly. “I thought Hermione would have been on you about it in an instance.”

“Heard what?” Harry said, glancing at Hermione, who was still currently engaged in her conversation with Percy.

“Minerva is planning on opening Hogwarts for the September term,” Mr Weasley revealed. “All of you who had a disrupted year, or missed it entirely, are going to be invited back to repeat it.”

Harry stared at him in stunned disbelief for a moment.

“Really?” he finally gasped.

Mr Weasley nodded, an understanding smile on his face.

Harry was struggling to comprehend it. He could go back to Hogwarts again. The place that had been his home for nearly seven years. But would he want to? With all the memories that still plagued the stones and hallways? Could he even stand to sit in the Great Hall knowing exactly where bodies had lain only a few months previously?

He was snapped out of his thoughts by Lyra sitting down heavily on his lap, causing him to groan slightly in discomfort.

“Liven up, darling,” she declared with a smacking kiss on his cheek. “This is a party and you look as if you had to swallow Armadillo bile.”

“Why is that the first thing you think about?” Harry asked, momentarily distracted from his original train of thought.

Lyra shrugged. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “Potions genius brother, probably.”

She glanced around the backyard, her brow furrowed slightly.

“Speaking of genius brothers, where is my darling twin?” she asked.

Harry’s eyes shot around the guests in slight worry, until another voice piped up from behind them.

“He’s helping Mum inside.”

Harry and Lyra turned to see Ginny standing behind them, looking at them with a slight glare.

“I didn’t know you two were together,” she said bluntly, her grip tightening on the glass she held. “How long has this been a thing?”

Harry exchanged a shocked glance with Lyra.

“No, we’re not – “

“We’re definitely not together – “

Ginny’s eyebrows just rose higher on her forehead and she scoffed. “Sure. I did think you had _some_ standards, Harry. Definitely wouldn’t have imagined you to be the type to sleep with someone like _her_.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry demanded, glaring at Ginny as Lyra firmly said, “We’re not together.”

She stood from Harry’s lap and crossed her arms over her chest. “Just because Harry didn’t want to date _you_ does not mean you have any right to judge who he may or may not date,” she continued. “Now, why don’t you run along before you really offend someone with your oh so scathing commentary?”

Harry smothered a snort at Lyra’s sarcasm. Lyra stood still, calmly observing Ginny as the other girl went red and stormed off.

“Well,” Mr Weasley said into the sudden silence. Harry had forgotten he was there. “I think I’m going to get myself another drink.”

***

“You cannot be serious.”

Draco stood in front of the sink with his arms crossed over his face, his face set defiantly as he stared at his sister.

“But Draco,” Lyra whined, drawing out the syllables of his name. “It’ll be fun.”

“ _Fun_?” he demanded. “Lyra, we will be _hated_.”

“Oh, you’re so pessimistic,” she said.

“Because I have every right to be!” he exclaimed. “Lyra, we were the reason Dumbledore died!”

“No, we were not!” she shouted. “We defected. We _changed_.” She took a deep breath and said in a gentler tone. “We have every right to be there, Draco, just like everyone else.”

Draco sighed and ran a hand over his face. “I don’t know…”

“Please?” Lyra said. She stepped forward and grabbed hold of Draco’s hands. “I won’t go without you. But I want to – _need_ to finish my schooling. You know that better than anyone.”

“I know,” Draco said softly. “But we have to be careful, okay? I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“So we’ll go?” she said in delight. “I love you, Dray!”

“Don’t call me that,” he grumbled, even as he allowed himself to be pulled into Lyra’s hug.

Suddenly, she turned around and shouted at the top of her lungs, “HARRY! GET YOUR ARSE DOWN HERE!”

“Lyra, what the fuck?” cried Draco, cringing and rubbing his ears. “No need to be a fucking banshee. You sound like Pansy.”

“I did learn from the best,” admitted Lyra with a smirk as Harry appeared in the kitchen, wand drawn.

“What’s wrong?” he gasped, looking around the room quickly. When he determined that there was nothing wrong, he dropped his wand arm and looked towards Draco and Lyra in question. “Er – is…anything wrong?”

Lyra snorted loudly and covered her mouth with a shocked look. Draco burst into delighted laughter and held himself up on the kitchen counter.

Harry’s face flushed bright red and he ran a hand through his tangle of dark curls, seemingly just realising that he was only half-dressed. Draco took a moment to appreciate the surprisingly lean chest muscles on display before Lyra caught his attention again.

“No, Harry, nothing is wrong,” she said with a wry smile. “Draco here simply agreed to come back to Hogwarts with us. As I told you he would,” she added with a pointed look at Draco, who just scowled at her.

“Really?” Harry said breathlessly. “Excellent!”

Draco felt his face flush slightly. “Well,” he said primly, “I couldn’t just let you both wreak havoc on Hogwarts.”

“Without you, you mean,” Lyra teased.

Draco ignored her.

“Potter,” he said instead, turning towards the other boy, who, for some reason, blushed red, “Lyra and I were planning on going to Diagon Alley tomorrow, if you wish to join us?”

“We were?” Lyra said in confusion. “When did we decide this?”

Draco jabbed her in the ribs.

Harry smiled brightly and said, “I’d love to come with you guys. Ron and ‘Mione already went a few days ago.”

“Brilliant,” Draco said. He walked out of the kitchen without another word.

It wasn’t until he reached his room that he realised Lyra had followed him. He collapsed on top of his bed and let out a low groan as she stood snickering at him from the doorway.

“Why so melodramatic, Coco?” she asked with a smirk. “Was it the amount of skin on show? Because, I have to say, even I was feeling a tad flustered.”

“Shut up, Ly,” Draco said, his words muffled by his pillow. “Why must Potter be so attractive? It’s extremely unfair that I am expected to keep my hands to myself when he looks like _that_.”

“Yes,” Lyra said thoughtfully, “he did look positively edible just now.”

Draco groaned pitifully again.

He felt Lyra sit down on the edge of his bed but refused to raise his head from the silk-covered pillow.

“You know…” Lyra said carefully, “you could always take a chance with Harry? It might go better than you think.”

Draco propped himself up with an elbow and laughed shrilly. “As if _I_ would ever have a chance with _Harry Potter_ ,” he said, shaking his head. “And that doesn’t even take into consideration the fact that he’s not even gay!”

A strange expression crossed Lyra’s face for a moment but she simply patted Draco on the arm.

“Perhaps, darling, the simplest thing is to simply _try_ ,” she suggested. “Harry may surprise you.”

“I really doubt it, Lyra,” Draco said. “Who says I even want to date Potter, anyway?”

Lyra shot him an unimpressed glance and Draco flushed hotly.

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that,” she said. “And If you ever say it near Pansy or Blaise, be prepared to be given shit about it for the rest of your life.”

“I don’t fancy Potter,” Draco said defiantly.

“You said it, not me,” Lyra said lightly. Ignoring Draco’s scowl, she stood up and began sorting through his wardrobe, holding up some of his shirts to her own chest.

“You’re insane,” Draco huffed. “And put that down, it doesn’t suit you at all.”

“We’re identical, darling, if it suits you it suits me,” Lyra announced. “Personally, I think you’re in denial. You won’t accept that a certain black-haired, green-eyed hero gets you all hot and bothered.”

“I do not get hot and bothered – !” Draco said indignantly.

Lyra pinned him with a silencing glare and continued, “Draco, be honest. You have been obsessed with Harry since forever.”

“I have not – “

“Darling, I have been with you nearly every second of your life, you cannot lie to me,” Lyra said flatly. “Now, the sooner you accept that your obsession – “ Draco glared fiercely at her and she sighed, “All right _fine_ …the sooner you accept your _fascination_ with Harry, the sooner who two can shag and live happily ever after.”

“You’re crude, Lyra,” Draco grumbled, even as his brain was assaulted by the image of him and Potter shagging – no, he wouldn’t let himself think about that. “I do not want to shag Potter.”

“Everyone wants to shag him,” Lyra said bluntly. “I just think you have more chance than others.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Draco asked, tilting his head in confusion.

Lyra just shook her head at him. “Not my place, darling.”

He huffed and slouched against the head of the bed, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Let’s say I humour your absurd idea,” he said petulantly, “what would you suggest I did about it?”

Lyra’s face lit up brightly as she spun away from the wardrobe.

“Well, first I’d recommend calling him by his name,” she said, shushing him when he tried to argue. “Now, I know it’s like some disturbing foreplay for you, but Harry appreciates it when people call him by his name.”

Draco gaped at her but she ignored him, instead riffling through his wardrobe once again.

“After you’ve gotten used to that,” she continued, “I would recommend spending some time with just him.” She spun around suddenly, her eyes bright. “Lessons are the perfect excuse to get close to him! You can sit next to him!”

“I feel like you’re getting more into this than I am,” Draco muttered.

“Hush, Debbie Downer,” said Lyra.

Draco choked on a breath. “What the fuck is a ‘Debbie Downer’?” he exclaimed.

“I don’t know,” Lyra admitted, frowning slightly. “I heard Millie say it once.”

“Millie?”

“Millie.” Lyra nodded.

“Odd,” Draco observed.

Lyra snorted.

“I must stop doing that,” she said, appalled.

“Darling, that ship has already sailed,” Draco drawled.

“Anyway!” Lyra shouted, startling Draco. “Once Harry’s gotten used to your presence – which, admittedly, takes a while – “

“Oi!”

“ – Then you can start the next step: flirting.” Lyra’s smile was so wide that Draco was worried her face would split completely.

“I never agreed to this,” he stated.

She simply waved a hand in front of her. “Trust me, Draco. It will work.”

“No, it won’t,” he said flatly.

“Yes, it will.”

“No, it won’t.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“ _No_.”

“ _Yes!”_

“Am I interrupting something?”

They both turned to see a fully dressed Po – _Harry_ standing at the door, looking at them in amusement.

“Of course not,” Lyra said smoothly, calmly replacing the shirt she was holding. “I was merely informing Draco that this shirt colour clashes with his skin tone.”

“It does not!” Draco cried, not even having to pretend to be affronted. “ _You_ bought me that shirt.”

“It appears even someone as perfect as myself makes mistakes,” Lyra sighed, shaking her head. “What can we do for you, Harry?”

Harry smiled and knocked against the doorframe. “I just wanted to let you know that dinner was ready.”

“Brilliant!” Lyra said brightly. “Thank you, Harry.”

She shot Draco a pointed look and he internally sighed before saying, “Yes, thank you…Harry…”

The only way to describe Harry’s expression was radiant. Draco was momentarily shocked by the pure joy that shone from his emerald eyes as the boy said, “No worries! I’ll see you both downstairs.”

The sound of his jubilant footsteps filled Draco’s ears as his twin looked at him with an ‘ _I told you so_ ’ expression.

Draco gave her the finger.


	6. Chapter Six - Returning to Hogwarts

The Great Hall looked exactly as it had done before the final battle.

No stone was out of place. The hundreds of thousands of candles floated happily above their heads. All five tables were neatly in alignment and chattering students filled them, as normal. Yet, differences were obvious. Gaps at the tables were larger than before and the students were quieter, the atmosphere heavy and hesitant.

Lyra sat squished between Draco and Pansy, Blaise in front of her, as they watched Professor McGonagall, now Headmistress, address the school.

“As some of you will have noticed,” she was saying, “we have an additional cohort with us this year. Due to lack of room in the normal House dormitories, the eighth years will be taking up residence in the newly renovated rooms which previously housed teachers in the East Wing. Professor Bayard will be your designated Head. Should you have any issues, please go to him. Now, Quidditch trials shall be held – “

Lyra zoned her words out and leant her head against Draco’s shoulder. The train ride had been surprisingly uneventful – not counting a few harsh glances Lyra and Draco received – but now, all Lyra wanted to do was curl up in her bed and sleep the weekend away.

Pansy elbowed her suddenly and Lyra opened her eyes, not realising that she had closed them in the first place.

“Dinner’s over,” Pansy said, nodding towards where the other eighth years were beginning to group near the new Transfiguration teacher. “Up you get, sleeping beauty.”

Lyra heaved herself out of the chair and leant heavily against Draco, who rolled his eyes at her.

“Did you get _any_ sleep last night?” he asked. “I don’t know how you’re still tired; you slept most of the train ride.”

“Mmfphnble,” Lyra said.

Draco looked down at her. “Eloquent.”

“Miss Malfoy, if you are incapable of standing by yourself, perhaps you should go see Madame Pomfrey?” Headmistress McGonagall’s voice said.

“I see your sense of humour didn’t change alongside your title, Headmistress,” Lyra said, head still on Draco’s shoulder.

Draco looked down at her in shock but McGonagall simply sighed and turned away from them. Across from them, Harry looked as if he couldn’t decide whether to laugh or cry. Lyra thought it best not to test McGonagall’s patience, so she dutifully stood up straight and followed Professor Bayard with the other students.

“Stop judging me Pansy, I’m tired,” Lyra sighed, not even bothering to look at the girl.

Pansy huffed and flicked Lyra over the head, causing her to cringe away with a shout.

“You’re already doing _exactly_ what we told you not to!” Pansy hissed. “We need people to _like_ us – that includes the Headmistress.”

“McGonagall likes me,” argued Lyra. “She didn’t give me detention.”

“I personally think that she’s decided she has too much else to worry about,” Blaise piped up from Draco’s other side. “You seem quite insignificant in her eyes.”

“You always say the kindest things, Blaise,” Lyra said.

“I agree with Pansy, actually,” Draco announced. “At least wait a few more days before you start irritating people.”

“I already fail that considering that you find me irritating,” she noted.

Draco smirked at her. “But I’m your brother, so it doesn’t count.”

“Does that mean I can be as irritating as possible and you can’t stop me?” Lyra said, brightening significantly.

“I didn’t say that,” Draco said quickly as Blaise groaned, “Good job, Draco.”

“No, you basically did,” Lyra continued. “This means I can tease you about a certain someone and you can’t do anything about it.”

“Lyra, no – “

“Too late, darling – “

“Special someone?” Pansy screeched. “Draco got a boyfriend?”

“Pansy, shut the fuck up!” hissed Draco, as a few heads turned towards them in interest. Harry frowned at their group.

“No, he didn’t get a boyfriend,” Lyra clarified. “He just likes – “

Her words were cut off by Draco slapping his hand over her mouth. She frowned at him but resisted from biting his palm.

“Lyra is tired and delusional,” Draco exclaimed. “Do not listen to anything she says.”

“No, I want to know more about this special someone,” Pansy groused.

“There is no _special someone_ \- !” Draco began hotly.

“Mr Malfoy, Miss Parkinson, if you would please both pay attention?” Professor Bayard was watching the four of them with a raised eyebrow. Both Draco and Pansy went pink and Draco’s hand dropped from Lyra’s mouth.

“Thank you,” the professor continued. “Now, as I was saying, the password will be changed every two weeks. Please submit your agreed upon password to me every second Friday. If you have any issues, please don’t hesitate to come find me in my office. Goodnight, everyone.”

Professor Bayard nodded at them and left them in front of a portrait depicting an autumnal forest scene, shooting a brief amused smile in Lyra, Draco and Pansy’s direction as he passed.

Hermione stepped forward and wrinkled her nose, saying, “Rainbow kittens.”

Lyra couldn’t help the snicker that broke out as the other eighth years began filing through the revealed doorway.

“I never knew I needed Granger to say something like that until now,” Blaise said with a wide smile as he followed after Lyra. “How long do you think it will take to get her to say ‘arse’?”

“Way too long for your attention span, Zabini,” Hermione said suddenly, not even turning away from one of the bookcases lining the walls.

The common room erupted into laughter. Blaise was watching Hermione with a gleam in his eyes and Lyra quickly shook her head.

“No,” she said firmly. “No, no, no.”

“I’m going to do it,” Blaise said determinedly.

“Leave it alone, Blaise,” Lyra tried.

“I’m going to do it,” he repeated.

“It’s not going to work.”

“It will.”

“No, it won’t.”

“Yes, it will.”

“ _No_ , it won’t.”

“It will.”

“Won’t.”

“Will.”

“Won’t.”

The common room door opening again interrupted their argument as Blaise looked behind Lyra and abruptly stopped talking, eyes going wide.

“What?” Lyra said, turning around.

“No, don’t - !” Blaise hissed, but it was too late.

Standing in the doorway was Theodore Nott, an arm wrapped securely around Daphne Greengrass’ waist. Lyra froze and felt Blaise and Pansy step up beside her. Draco walked in front of them and casually addressed the pair.

“Theodore, Daphne. I didn’t know you were coming back. You weren’t on the train.”

“We couldn’t get a Portkey from Prague until this afternoon,” Daphne replied primly. “The Headmistress was kind enough to let us arrive this evening.”

“Prague?” Draco asked in a blandly polite voice. The hand behind his back was motioning for Lyra and the others to leave but she refused to move, despite Pansy’s insistent tugging on her arm. “I’ve heard it’s lovely this time of year.”

Daphne let out a high-pitched giggle and gripped Theo’s arm. “It was _wonderful_ ,” she said in a simpering voice. “Darling Theo couldn’t have picked a better place for our honeymoon.”

“You already got married?” Draco said, his voice edging into a dangerously cold tone. “How…splendid.”

“Yes, indeed,” Daphne agreed. “As soon as all that horrid business was over, Theo and I decided we couldn’t wait any longer. Why waste time when you’ve found the one?”

“Why indeed?” Draco said drily.

Daphne took a step forward, seemingly unaware of the tense atmosphere that had settled around the room. Nearly every other eighth year was watching the interaction, most with confused expressions on their faces. Harry, however, had begun inching closer, as he was the only one whom Lyra had told about her and Theo’s breakup.

“Oh, Lyra, you look lovely!” Daphne exclaimed, releasing Theo and stepping forward to press kisses to her cheeks. It took everything in Lyra not to recoil. “A bit peaky, but still lovely.”

Pansy scowled deeply and opened her mouth but Lyra beat her to it.

“Unfortunately, not everyone could enjoy a continental holiday,” she said smoothly.

“Yes, I heard about the trials,” Daphne said, oblivious to the narrowing of everyone’s eyes. “I was oh so sorry to hear that you and Draco had to spend time in Azkaban. I’ve heard it’s quite a nasty place.”

“Indeed,” Lyra replied stiffly.

“I want you to know that if you ever need to talk, I’m here for you darling,” Daphne said, holding eye contact with Lyra. “I hope you won’t let the little disagreement between you and Theo come between us.”

“Little disagreement?” Lyra repeated incredulously. She pinned a glare on Theo, was had taken a step forward only to be stopped by Draco. “If you believe that Theo keeping your engagement from me for half a year is a _little_ disagreement, I’m afraid we’re going to have more problems than just that.”

“Don’t be so harsh on him,” pouted Daphne. “I’m sure it was a misunderstanding.”

“Oh, so it was a misunderstanding that he was warming your bed at the same time that he was dating me?” Lyra said loudly. She straightened and turned away from them. “Lovely talk, Greengrass – or sorry, is it Nott now?”

Lyra walked away, quietly fuming, ignoring all the wide eyes that followed after her. She found her room, which thankfully only held Pansy, and closed the door quietly behind her, for Merlin forbid a Malfoy lose their temper and do something as pedestrian as _slam a door._

“That bitch!” Pansy exclaimed, storming into the room after Lyra. Lyra got the satisfaction of hearing the door slam behind the other girl without actually having to do it herself. “Who does she think she is? Waltzing in here, practically draped over that cheating bastard and insulting you! I’m going to peel her skin off piece by piece so I don’t need to see that perfect smile for another second!”

Lyra couldn’t help it, she burst into laughter.

“Why the fuck are you laughing?” screeched Pansy. “You should be planning her murder with me!”

“I love you, Pans,” Lyra said, stepping forward and embracing the other girl.

“Hmm, well I love you too,” Pansy grumbled. “Can we still plan murder?”

“No,” Lyra said, releasing Pansy. “No murder.”

“You’re no fun,” Pansy huffed, throwing herself down on her bed. “Draco’s furious.”

“I’m surprised he didn’t come stomping up here after you,” Lyra said as she began to unpack her trunk.

“Oh, he wanted to,” Pansy assured her. “He just had to deal with Potter first. Apparently, that man feels as though you’ve been slighted. You would have thought, a Potter defending a Malfoy?”

“Harry’s a good friend,” Lyra scolded. “Reckon we should go down there and see if either one of them killed Nott?”

“We’d be better off if they did,” Pansy said, examining her perfectly manicured nails.

“Pansy…” Lyra said in warning.

“Ugh, _fine_ ,” huffed Pansy. “But you owe me,” she said as she heaved herself off the bed. “Spend the night with Draco so that I can fuck Blaise in here.”

“Touch my bed and I’ll shave your head,” threatened Lyra as they walked back downstairs.

“Just for that, I’m going to make sure I push Blaise onto your bed the minute he walks through the door,” Pansy said with a smirk, “and we’re going to make sweet, hot love all night long on your silk sheets.”

“You are absolutely horrible,” Lyra exclaimed, shuddering in disgust. She spotted Draco slouching in an armchair near the fire, arms crossed firmly over his chest. “Draco! Save me! Pansy’s being her horrid self.”

“Why are you so mean to me, Lyra?” whined Pansy.

“You threatened to have sex on my bed,” Lyra cried. “Of course, I’m going to be mean.”

“I wasn’t _actually_ going to do it,” muttered Pansy. “You’re no fun.”

Lyra rolled her eyes and dropped into the chair on top of Draco. He grunted in pain but uncrossed his arms to give her more space.

“So,” Lyra said evenly, “Pansy tells me you didn’t let Harry kill Nott.”

“It was more that neither of us let the other kill him,” corrected Draco. “We both wanted to kill him individually.”

“And considering that there is a lack of blood and body parts, I’d say that neither of you succeeded?” Lyra observed.

“Granger stepped in,” explained Blaise, Pansy now situated comfortably on his lap. “Shame, too. It was about to get interesting.”

“I’d rather not go back to Azkaban for murder, Blaise,” Draco said, rolling his eyes. “It was probably better that Granger stopped me.”

“You’re very welcome, Draco,” Hermione’s voice suddenly said from above them. She, Ron and Harry were standing in front of their small group of chairs. “How are you, Lyra?”

“Surprisingly fine,” Lyra replied. “I had all my knights in shining armour defend my honour.”

Harry stepped forward and placed a hand on her arm. “We’re not going to let Nott anywhere near you,” he said firmly.

Lyra just shook her head. “Don’t worry about it guys,” she said. “After this year, I’ll never have to see either of them again. Yes, it sucked that my boyfriend lied to me for months while sleeping with another girl but I’ve had time to get over it. And it’s not like I’ll be alone forever. I just want some time for myself and my life.”

“That’s very mature of you, Lyra,” Hermione said, smiling at her brightly.

“You sound so surprised,” Lyra replied.

“Sorry,” the other girl shrugged. “Having spent so much time with Ron and Harry, I don’t get much exposure to maturity.”

The two boys in question let out affronted exclamations. Lyra and the others laughed quietly at them. She slumped back against Draco’s chest and sighed deeply.

“I think I’m going to head up to bed,” she said. “But, thanks for standing up for me, guys.”

“Anytime,” Harry said sincerely.

Lyra got to her feet and stretched.

“Oh, that reminds me,” she said to her brother, “I’m staying with you tonight so Pansy and Blaise can fuck.”

“You weren’t meant to announce that to everyone!” shouted Pansy.

“Threaten to fuck on my bed again and you’ll get worse,” Lyra said as she climbed the stairs, Draco behind her. “Give me five minutes to get my stuff before you come barging in.”

“Fuck you, Lyra,” grumbled Pansy.

“Sorry, love, but I don’t swing that way,” she pouted.

Blaise’s booming laughter mingled with those of Hermione, Ron and Harry as the sound followed Lyra and Draco up the stairs to the dormitories.

***

Draco was about to walk through the door to the Charms classroom when Lyra suddenly grabbed his arm and pulled him to a stop.

“What?” he asked her.

She smiled widely at him and leant in closer to declare in a loud whisper, “It’s time to start our plan!”

“Our plan?”

“Our plan for you to seduce Harry, remember?” Lyra said, frowning slightly. “Step one: sit together.”

“Absolutely not – “ he started, attempting to walk through the door.

Lyra pulled him back and levelled a glare on him.

“You’re not getting away that easily,” she said.

“I’m not doing it,” Draco said firmly.

“We’ve been here for almost a month, Draco!” Lyra cried. “You need to start sometime.”

“Now is not that time,” Draco said.

“Now _is_ that time,” Lyra argued. “Sit with him.”

“No.”

“ _Yes_.”

“Lyra, there is no point,” Draco sighed. “Now, let me go, we’re going to be late.”

“You’re sitting with him,” Lyra declared, pulling Draco into the room. “I didn’t put so much effort into your appearance just for you to waste it.”

“Is that why you spent an hour on my hair this morning?” Draco asked.

“I wanted to get the ‘just-flew’ look that Harry loves,” Lyra said brightly. “He couldn’t stop looking during breakfast.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Draco huffed. He moved to sit in his usual seat when Lyra suddenly pushed passed him, sliding into the free seat next to Millicent. Draco halted and blinked down at his sister. Looking around the room, he realised that Longbottom had moved to sit beside Hannah Abbott, who usually sat beside Millie, causing Millie to move to Draco’s usual seat and leaving the seat beside Harry free.

“You planned this,” Draco hissed furiously at Lyra.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, darling,” Lyra said, looking up at him with innocent eyes. “Neville simply wanted to sit next to his girlfriend and I said Millie could sit here.”

“That’s my seat,” Draco said.

“There’s a free one next to Harry.” Lyra’s innocent expression was slipping.

“I hate you,” Draco told her. Professor Flitwick entered the room and called for silence.

“Chin up, Coco. It’s just Harry,” Lyra said with a smile as Draco stalked over to the only free seat.

He dropped his bag at his feet and angrily sat down, slamming his quill, parchment and textbook on the desk before he began furiously taking notes.

“Are you all right?” Harry asked him quietly.

Draco couldn’t help the slight shiver that went through him at Harry’s proximity. He relaxed his grip on his quill slightly, not wanting to break it.

“I’m fine,” he said through slightly gritted teeth. “Lyra is just being a meddlesome little shit.”

“What’s she doing?” Harry said. “She’s been smirking at Pansy for the last few minutes.”

Draco looked over and caught his sister’s eye and scowled fiercely. She just batted her eyelashes at him.

“Conniving bints,” Draco growled, practically stabbing his parchment as he wrote. “They need to keep out of my business.”

“They’re not hurting you are they?” Harry asked worriedly.

“No, Potter, they are not hurting me.” _Yet_ , Draco added silently.

Harry’s kind eyes shuttered slightly and he said in a slightly hurt tone, “Oh, are we back to that then?”

“Back to what?”

“You called me ‘Potter’,” Harry said, a touch of what Draco thought might have been sadness coating his words.

“I always call you ‘Potter’,” Draco replied, confused.

“You haven’t been recently,” Harry argued. “You’ve been calling me ‘Harry’.”

“Is it so important that I call you ‘Harry’?” Draco asked, slightly annoyed.

“Well, it’s my name – “ Harry started.

“Am I interrupting you gentlemen?” Professor Flitwick called in his squeaky voice. Both Draco and Harry straightened and winced as the professor stared at them. “Pay attention, please.”

They both muttered apologies and were silent for a few minutes as they dutifully took down notes. Eventually, Draco couldn’t stand the tense waves coming off of the other boy.

“If it’s that important to you, I’ll strive to call you ‘Harry’,” he said softly, not taking his eyes off his notes. “I can’t promise I won’t call you ‘Potter’ occasionally, though.”

He could feel Harry staring at the side of his head and his cheeks heated slightly.

“Do you want to call me ‘Harry’?” he asked.

“What?” Draco said in confusion.

“Do you want to call me by my name because you want to or because I want you to?” Harry clarified.

“Both, I guess.” Draco shrugged. “It’s important to you. But you’ve always been ‘Potter’ to me.”

“Do you think eventually I could be ‘Harry’?” the other boy asked very quietly.

Draco looked over at Harry and saw him determinedly focused on the wand movements Professor Flitwick was teaching them. His dark hair was as messy as ever and he still looked slightly too thin.

“Yes,” Draco said finally. “Yes, I do think you could become ‘Harry’.”

“Really?” Harry said, his green eyes brightening behind his sightly smudged glasses.

“That’s what I just said, wasn’t it?” Draco asked with a slight smirk.

“Okay. Good. Brilliant,” Harry said, turning his attention back to the professor, a small smile spreading across his face.

Draco put his own attention back to the front and couldn’t help the giddy feeling that rose up within his chest. He looked over to his sister again and found her smiling widely at him.

He shot a stinging hex at her.

***

“See? That didn’t go so bad,” Lyra said as they walked out of the classroom. “You looked like you had a lovely conversation.”

“I don’t appreciate your meddling,” Draco lied, stalking quickly through the halls.

Lyra huffed behind him and quickened her pace, her shorter legs struggling to keep up with Draco’s long strides.

“Slow down, you bastard,” she panted. “And I was right, wasn’t I?”

Draco pursed his lips but reluctantly nodded. Lyra beamed up at him.

“So! Tell me what you talked about,” she demanded. “I want all the details. What did he say? What did you say? Did you touch? Did he smile?”

“Lyra, there’s nothing to tell,” Draco said, leaning up against the wall outside the Arithmancy classroom.

“But you both looked so _happy_ ,” Lyra needled. “Surely _something_ happened.”

Draco smiled to himself slightly and ducked his head.

“Ok fine,” he said in a low voice. “I called him ‘Harry’.”

Lyra frowned at him. “But you’ve been doing that for weeks,” she said in confusion. “That was the first part of the plan.”

“I thought sitting with him was the first step?” Draco said.

Lyra waved a hand through the air. “You know what I mean, the unofficial start. Why were you both so happy about calling him by his name?”

“Well, I might’ve called him ‘Potter’ because I was angry at you and Pansy,” Draco admitted. “And he seemed hurt so I said I’d call him by his name.”

“So generous,” Lyra muttered under her breath. Draco dutifully ignored the comment. “So, step one seems to be going well. Excellent! This means you can start talking to him a bit more.”

“Woah, woah, woah, wait,” Draco said quickly. “We’ve barely even _begun_ step one. I have to do it for a few weeks so that he gets used to my presence – isn’t that what you said?”

“Obviously,” Lyra drawled. “But you also need to initiate conversation. Just sitting beside him doesn’t accomplish anything. It might as well be sitting next to a stone wall.”

Draco frowned in thought. “What would we even talk about?”

“Quidditch, Teddy, school – I don’t know, anything!” Lyra said. “You were able to hold a conversation pretty well during summer. I don’t know why it’s such a big deal now?”

“Because you’ve suddenly come along and put the idea of courtship into my head,” hissed Draco lowly. “It changes the importance of everything.”

“So this _is_ important to you?” Lyra asked with a smirk.

“Of course it is!” Draco exclaimed. “I wouldn’t be going along with your ridiculous plan if it wasn’t!”

“Just checking,” Lyra said lightly as the professor arrived and opened the door. “Can’t have you toying with Harry’s feelings after all.”

“Harry’s feelings? What about my feelings?” Draco grumbled. “I do actually possess them.”

“I know you do, darling,” Lyra said, patting his arm condescendingly. “I think that sometimes _you_ forget you possess them.”

“You’re incorrigible,” Draco sighed. “However did I manage to be stuck with you for a twin?”

“You would be lost without me, Coco, and we both know it,” Lyra said smugly. “Now, enough about Harry, how do I do this equation again?”

The rest of the day passed in a blur of classwork and poorly concealed scheming from Lyra. Draco tried his hardest to ignore her constant stream of pointless chatter, random comments surrounding Harry thrown in when he least expected them. Despite the increasing urge to hex his sister and leave her in a broom closet for Filch to find, Draco couldn’t help but be grateful that they were able to do something as carefree as gossip about a boy. It had been so long since they could both let down their walls and relax, not worrying about the constant threat of death or punishment hanging over their heads.

“And anyway, I was saying to George just the other day that those love potions he sells are so horribly problematic. Did you know they practically take away all aspects of consent? Ron told me all about sixth year when he got dosed with a potion meant for Harry – could you imagine that? Losing complete control over yourself; it would practically be rape! Are you even listening to me?”

Lyra crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Draco as he nodded reflexively and then cringed.

“No,” he admitted. “Sorry, do continue. Love potions?”

Lyra rolled her eyes so hard that Draco was worried they’d fall out.

“Ok, spill,” she said. “Where did your mind go to? For your sake, I hope it was interesting enough to warrant ignoring me.”

“I’m just glad you can be yourself again,” Draco said. “I like seeing you like this.”

A blush crept up Lyra’s cheeks and she slapped his arm none-too-gently. “You are such a sap, Draco Malfoy.”

“I can’t be completely heartless all the time,” he said, feeling a blush rise up his own cheeks. “Now, stop slapping me, people are staring.”

“People always stare. We’re gorgeous,” Lyra declared. “For the record, I’m glad you’re more relaxed as well. It makes you look happier.”

“Now who’s the sap,” Draco muttered, smiling slightly.

“Okay, just for that, you owe me a butterbeer next Hogsmeade trip!” Lyra shouted, shoving Draco.

He grumbled under his breath and straightened his book bag, which had swung out at an alarming angle. They dodged a pair of Ravenclaws and ducked under the alcove leading to the common room entrance.

“Draco, I’m going to be completely honest here,” Lyra said, turning around and stopping him from walking. “I genuinely do think that you have a chance with Harry. You just need to step outside your comfort zone.”

“Lyra, my comfort zone has been so completely demolished in the last few years that I don’t even know what my comfort zone is,” Draco sighed.

“It’s that!” Lyra cried. “Sarcasm! You practically ooze it.”

“Please never say ooze again – “

“What you need to do is try being genuine with Harry,” Lyra continued, nodding to herself. “I think he appreciates your humour, so don’t change obviously. But maybe try to slot in a compliment occasionally.”

“You’re getting very invested in this and we’ve only been doing it for a day,” Draco commented wryly.

“It’s because I don’t want to see you lonely this year!” Lyra said dramatically. “You need a good shag and cuddle and I think Harry can give you that.”

“Are you projecting your sexual frustration onto me?” Draco asked, raising an eyebrow. He pushed his way into the common room and quickly found an empty corner to sit in. Lyra dropped down beside him and lowered her voice.

“Yes! My boyfriend cheated on me and it’s not like I’ve been able to sleep with anyone lately, I’ve been surrounded by gay blokes, one of which is my brother!” Lyra exclaimed. She suddenly stopped and held her breath, grey eyes widening. “Pretend you didn’t hear that. Oh, Merlin, I fucked up. I fucked up.”

Draco stared at her in shock, mouth gaping open slightly.

“Do you mean to say that – Harry – “ he choked out. “What - ?”

“NOTHING!” Lyra shouted, waving her arms wildly around. “Forget I said anything!”

“Lyra – is Harry _gay_?” Draco gasped.

Lyra was steadily going paler and paler and just kept muttering “Fuck” under her breath.

“Lyra, tell me,” ordered Draco. “Is this why you’ve been so insistent about me having a chance and all?”

“I wasn’t meant to tell you. It wasn’t my secret to tell,” Lyra said miserably. “Harry’s going to be so upset with me.”

“I’m not going to tell anyone,” Draco assured. Lyra looked close to tears. “I promise. I won’t mention it. And you can tell him it was an accident.”

“I’m a horrible person,” Lyra groaned, dropping her head into her hands.

“No, you’re not,” Draco said softly, placing his hand between her shoulder blades. He looked around the common room helplessly and caught Harry’s eyes. The other boy looked down at Lyra’s slumped figure and raised his eyebrows in question. Draco contemplated his options for a split second before he called loudly, “Oi, Harry. Get over here, would you?”

Lyra’s head shot up and she stared at Draco in horror.

“What are you doing?” she hissed. “This is the worst thing you could possibly do. Do you want me to die – Oh, hi Harry, how are you?”

“I’m good, how are you, Lyra?” Harry asked, sitting down beside Draco.

“I’m brilliant,” Lyra said in a high-pitched voice. Tears were still glistening in her eyes.

“You sure?” Harry checked, glancing quickly at Draco. “Because you look upset.”

Lyra’s smile froze and Draco spoke before she could.

“Lyra accidentally told me that you were gay and was worried that you would be upset at her for betraying your trust,” Draco revealed. Lyra looked at him in betrayal and he shrugged.

“Oh,” Harry said eloquently. He blinked a few times as Lyra looked at him fearfully. “It’s not an issue, Lyra, really,” he continued. “I was planning on telling him anyway. I don’t mind people knowing.”

“You don’t?” Lyra asked.

Harry smiled brightly at her. “No,” he confirmed. “I actually thought most people knew, considering that I blurted it out in front of George.”

“He didn’t tell anyone,” Lyra said. “He could tell you needed some time to figure it out.”

“Oh, well that was nice of him,” Harry said in surprise. His eyes suddenly widened in worry. “Oh no, that means I have to tell Mr and Mrs Weasley.”

“And Ginny,” Lyra added hesitantly. “Ron didn’t tell her.”

Harry groaned. “I thought the whole point of telling people was so that they went and told other people, meaning _I_ didn’t have to tell everyone else.”

“Good luck, Harry,” Draco said, resisting the urge to reach over and pat the other boy on the arm. “I just told Pansy and she did the rest.”

Harry’s eyes brightened and he straightened. He turned towards the fireplace, where Pansy was sitting with Blaise and said, “That’s it.”

Draco and Lyra looked at each other in confusion.

“What’s it?”

“Harry?”

But Harry just jumped to his feet and marched over to Pansy. Lyra and Draco looked at each other again and then simultaneously scrambled out of their seats after the other boy. They arrived in time to hear the end of Harry’s request.

“I need you to spread it around.”

Pansy looked delighted; her brown eyes were shining brightly and she had a shit-eating grin on her face.

“My, my, Potter,” she said, “I never would have pegged you as the type.”

“Yeah, well neither did I until recently,” Harry replied. “So, will you do it?”

Pansy scoffed. “Of course I will,” she said. “But you realise that there will be a lot of backlash and it will likely get out to the paper.”

Harry nodded. “Yep.”

“And you still want me to do it?”

“Yep.”

“All right then.” Pansy’s smile widened somehow. “This will be extremely enjoyable.”

“Just let me send off a letter first, then you can start,” Harry requested. “I have to tell Andromeda and Ron’s parents.”

“Our aunt won’t have any issue with it,” Lyra assured. “She even gave Draco a book – “

“Lyra, shut up,” Draco hissed, covering her mouth with his hand. “That is _not_ to be spoken about.”

“Why not?” whines his twin. “It was sweet.”

“It was embarrassing and we shall never speak of it,” Draco said firmly.

“Well, congratulations on overcoming your gay panic, Potter,” Blaise said, effectively shifting the attention away from Draco. “Anyone caught your eye yet?”

Harry blushed a dark red and quickly made his excuses to leave.

“He’s no fun,” pouted Blaise. “I wonder who initiated his gay awakening?”

“Could be anyone,” Lyra said in a blasé tone. “Exploding Snap anyone?”

It wasn’t until later that Draco realised Lyra had effectively avoided talking about Harry’s gay interest.

***

Lyra was peacefully eating dinner, minding her own business, when Harry dropped into the seat beside her, his face set in determination.

“Hello…” she said slowly, putting down her cutlery. “What can I help you with, Harry?”

“What is Draco doing?” Harry said without hesitation.

“I don’t know what you mean?” Lyra replied carefully.

“He’s acting strange,” Harry said.

“You need to be more specific, darling.”

“He’s being…” Harry seemed to search for the right word, “ _nice_. He’s being overly nice and asking about my day. It’s weird.”

“Have you thought of the possibility that he’s genuinely interested?” Lyra asked, noting to herself to tell Draco to dial it back a bit.

Harry looked surprised for a moment. “Er…No, actually. I hadn’t.” He stared down at the wooden table for a while before saying, “Do you think he is?”

“What?”

“Interested.” Harry looked so hopeful that Lyra almost cracked and told him their plan.

Almost.

“Of course he’d be interested in you,” she said instead. “You’re a great guy and you’re friends. I don’t see any problems. Unless you do?”

“Oh no. No, I don’t,” Harry said quickly. “I guess I’m just surprised that he would be, you know, interested.”

Lyra shook her head at him. “Honestly, Potter, you don’t give yourself enough credit. You’re a stellar guy, an awesome friend, not too shabby when you put in the effort. You actually have a working brain underneath that mess you call hair. And, believe it or not, you’re a walking piece of eye candy. If you weren’t bent, I definitely would have tried to sleep with you.”

Harry had gotten progressively pinker as Lyra spoke and he was now sitting looking thoroughly embarrassed. He laughed nervously.

“That’s not true,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“Oh for Merlin’s sake – “ Lyra huffed. She stood up and put her hands on the table in front of her. Raising her voice, she shouted out to the small groups of students eating in the Great Hall. “Oi! Who here thinks my boy Harry is a great catch? Be honest now you little shits!”

Nearly all the females and even some males nodded in agreement and Lyra sat down with a smug smile. It faltered when a loud voice called from the Head Table:

“Miss Malfoy, five points from Slytherin for your language.”

“Sorry, Headmistress,” Lyra called. She turned to face Harry, who was now a bright red. “So worth it. Now, do you still think I was ‘just trying to make you feel better’?”

“You’re crazy,” Harry said weakly, shaking his head.

“I’m serious, Potter!” Lyra said, hitting his arm. “You’re a catch. Just accept that someone might be interested in you.”

“And you think that someone is Draco,” Harry stated. He narrowed his eyes. “What do you know?”

“Harry, you know that I consider you one of my closest friends now,” Lyra said in a serious tone, “but Draco is my brother. I will always, _always_ choose him first. So, while I may offer the suggestion to give Draco the benefit of the doubt, it does _not_ mean that I am willing to betray his trust and reveal anything he may or may not have confided in me about. Do you understand where I’m coming from?”

Harry nodded and said, “Of course. Sorry. I shouldn’t have asked that.”

“No, you can obviously ask it. It just means I won’t answer,” Lyra corrected. “What I will say, however, is that if you are still interested in Draco, you should talk to him about it.” She paused for a moment and then added. “So, are you?”

“Am I what?” Harry asked evasively, picking at the napkin next to his hand.

Lyra levelled an unimpressed stare at him and pulled the napkin away.

“You know exactly what I mean, Harry Potter,” Lyra said. “Do you fancy Draco?”

Harry worried his bottom lip with his teeth and looked around the room. Finally, he leant in closer and sighed in resignation.

“Yes,” he said. “I like Draco. But, god, it’s confusing. Sometimes he seems so cold and unreachable and then other times he’s smiling at me and making me just want to grab him and snog him breathless.”

“Well…that’s positive, at least,” Lyra muttered. “So, what are you going to do about it?”

“What am I going to do about it?” Harry repeated.

“Are you going to repeat everything I say or give me answers?” Lyra asked drily.

Harry coughed awkwardly. “Sorry,” he murmured. “What am I going to do? I don’t know! How would you suggest going about this?”

“Maybe you could start by, oh, I don’t know… _talking to him_?” Lyra said, rolling her eyes at Harry. “Or better yet, why don’t you just ask him out? There’s a Hogsmeade trip coming up this weekend. Go shopping, get a butterbeer, talk – the usual.”

“I can’t just ask him out!” Harry exclaimed. “There’s no way he’ll say yes.”

Lyra let out a long-suffering sigh and looked toward the enchanted ceiling as if it held all the answers to her problems. When she found none presenting themselves, she turned back to reality, which unfortunately took the shape of an oblivious Harry Potter.

“You cannot be serious,” she told him. “Potter. Harry. Just, just talk to Draco, okay? That’s all I’ll say.”

“But what should I do if he _does_ say yes?” Harry asked worriedly. “The only two attempts I’ve had at dating have been a disaster.”

“Well, you were trying to date girls,” Lyra pointed out. “Draco may seem very high maintenance but he really isn’t. The secret is knowing what he likes and how he likes being treated. If you can do that, you’re going to get it right.”

Harry was nodding along to her words

“Okay,” he finally said, “I’ll think about that. Thanks.” He paused for a moment before staring at her intensely. “You can’t tell him.”

“As if I would get involved,” scoffed Lyra. “You two are big boys, you can figure it out yourselves.”

“Thanks Lyra,” Harry said happily. He pulled her into a quick hug and then bounced to his feet, disappearing from the Great Hall.

“Loveable idiots,” Lyra muttered to herself with a smile.

***

“N.E.W.Ts are going to kill me,” Pansy whined from Blaise’s bed. “I swear we haven’t even learnt half this stuff.”

“You would know if you’d paid attention for the last seven years,” Draco replied lightly. He was flipping through an Advanced Transfigurations textbook he got from McGonagall. Right now, N.E.W.Ts were the one thing he was worried about; he had to get perfect Outstanding’s or no one would hire him. It wasn’t like they would want the son of a Death Eater working for them.

Lyra sat beside him, steadily writing down Defence notes on a large slab of parchment. Other subject notes sat around her in neat piles. She threw her quill down in annoyance and leant her head against the edge of Draco’s bed.

“I swear this isn’t even relevant,” she complained. “I don’t know we kept up with Defence. O’Leary hates us – it’s not like he’ll give us fair marks.”

“We still have to try, Ly,” Draco said. “O’Leary doesn’t mark the finals. If we can get O’s, we’ll be better off than if we didn’t even do the subject.”

“I still don’t even know what I want to do after school,” Lyra sighed, moving so that she was leaning heavily against Draco’s side. “Have you guys thought about it?”

Blaise and Pansy nodded across from them.

“I’m trying out for an internship in France,” Pansy said. “There’s a law institute there that said if I got an Outstanding in two of my subjects, they would consider me for the position.”

“That’s great, Pans,” Draco said, smiling up at the girl. He knew that working in magical law was the girl’s biggest dream. “What about you, Blaise?”

“Well, I’m going to take some leisure time,” he replied. “I’ll go to France with Pans when she gets the internship.”

Draco couldn’t help but smile at his two best friends. The war had finally brought them together and they were both happier because of it. Blaise absolutely adored Pansy, who loved the attention but also genuinely cared for the boy in return. The only other relationship similar seemed to be of Granger and Weasley but Draco didn’t want to think too long about them in that way.

“What about you guys?” Blaise asked, tilting his head from where it was resting in Pansy’s lap.

“I doubt many people are going to be interested in hiring ex-Death Eaters,” Draco said darkly. “But we’ll try to get the best grades we can.”

“I’m sure Potter’s testimony helped,” Pansy said. “I mean, he got you completely acquitted.”

“It doesn’t change the mindset of people,” Draco stated. “But it doesn’t matter. Lyra and I will both work hard and hopefully, someone will act like an adult and give us an opportunity.”

“And if they don’t,” Lyra added, “We’ll take our skillsets somewhere else.”

“Just don’t let this worry you,” Pansy urged. “You are both brilliant and could do anything you wanted.”

“Thanks Pans,” Lyra said with a smile. “And if no one hires us, you can just sue them with all your legal expertise.”

The four of them broke out laughing but soon returned back to studying. Exams were the week before Christmas break and Draco was determined to get perfect marks. And then came the next issue…

 _No, back to studying_ , he thought quickly. _Don’t think about that right now_.

“I bet you Harry and the others are just out playing in the snow,” Lyra said wistfully, craning her neck to peer out of the frost-covered glass. “Do you think we can afford to take a quick break? It looks lovely out there.”

Draco sighed through his nose but closed his book. Once Lyra got an idea in her head, it was difficult to get rid of it.

“Okay,” he agreed. “But only a quick one – I want to finish this section before dinner.”

Lyra’s face lit up and she quickly began to pull on various coats and gloves and hats that were laying around Draco’s room. It was such a common occurrence that she actually managed to find a set of her own gloves hidden in Draco’s closet. He took much more care getting ready. When he was finished, they both turned around to see that Pansy and Blaise hadn’t moved an inch.

“Aren’t you two coming?” Lyra asked.

“Well, we soon will be but not in the way you think,” Blaise said with a smirk.

Draco grimaced and shuddered in disgust. “Don’t touch my bed.”

“No promises, darling!” Pansy called after him as he grabbed Lyra’s arm and dragged her out of the room.

The grounds were completely covered in white powder when they burst out of the entrance hall, deep trenches cutting through the pristine covering from where students had made the trek outside. Lyra squealed happily and held tight to Draco’s hand, tugging him down the steps into the snow.

“I love winter!” she exclaimed, jumping into a nearby pile. “Remember snow days at home, Draco? Wanna race to build a snow elf?”

Draco laughed to himself as he watched his grown sister act like a child. She ran around in circles, using her hands to roll uneven balls of compacted snow as she attempted to recreate their ‘snow elves’.

“Come _on_ , Draco!” she called. “We’re meant to be having fun!”

Draco lasted about another minute before he hurried down toward her, scooping up a large handful of snow on the way and shaping it into a snowball. When Lyra’s back was turned, Draco aimed and fired, hitting her squarely in the back. She stumbled and whirled around, silver eyes sparkling in the sunlight reflected off the snow. They soon fell into a vicious snowball fight, using hands and wands to ensure that the other was always drenched in freezing snow.

After a while, they collapsed on the ground, completely out of breath.

“I haven’t done something like that in years,” panted Draco, wiping snow off his face but leaving behind a trail of cold water.

“We ought to have more fun, just the two of us,” Lyra said. She was lying with her arms and legs spread out wide like a starfish and her hair was streaming loose underneath her knit hat. She looked an absolute mess of pink skin and wet clothing and Draco knew he looked the exact same.

“I don’t want to go back to the Manor for Christmas,” Lyra said suddenly.

Draco heaved a breath and it floated white in front of him.

“Neither do I,” he admitted. “But mother…”

“She would understand,” Lyra said.

“But she’d be alone there,” Draco sighed. “We already left her during the summer.”

“But she knew we couldn’t be there,” Lyra countered. “I’m sure she’d be okay with us staying here.”

“What if we just visited her?” Draco suggested. “We could get permission from McGonagall to go on Christmas Day and be back the day after. That way it’s only one night.”

Lyra sighed and stared up at the grey sky for a few moments.

“It would be nice to see her,” she eventually said. “Maybe we could see if Pansy and Blaise wanted to join us with their parents?”

“Blaise told me he’s going to Italy for the holidays,” Draco said. “But Pansy may be able to come.”

“That would be nice,” Lyra said quietly.

Draco looked over at her and reached out to grasp her hand.

“It’ll get better, Lyra,” he said with a soft smile. “Maybe we can renovate the place. I mean, technically I own it now because father is in Azkaban.”

Lyra snorted. “Who knew that would be how you inherited the place?”

She suddenly sat up.

“We should make an event out of it,” she declared. “A giant renovation party where we just tear down the walls and make it our own place.”

“I fear mother would have a heart attack,” Draco said. “But it would be extremely therapeutic.”

“It’s decided then,” Lyra announced. “I’ll send mother a letter letting her know.”

Draco nodded in acknowledgment and stood up, brushing snow off his clothes.

“We should head back inside. It’s getting late,” he said. He held a hand out to help Lyra to his feet and they began walking back to the castle.

“I’m glad we got some time to ourselves,” Lyra said quietly, lacing her arm through Draco’s. “We never get just us time without anything else catching our attention.”

“It’s nice,” Draco agreed. “When we graduate, we can get an apartment and relax until we find jobs. Should we travel?”

“I’ve always wanted to see Norway,” Lyra said. “Maybe we should go around Europe. We could even go to America. And Canada sounds lovely.”

“All right then, we’ll travel,” Draco said with a beaming smile. It felt good to know they actually had a future to plan out, one in which darkness didn’t consume them. He continued, “And then we can look for jobs and make the Malfoy name into something respectable again.”

“It’s not as bad off as it could have been,” Lyra noted, pushing the heavy oak doors to the castle open. “I mean, if we hadn’t had common sense in sixth year, we would have practically been mindless slaves who were convicted Death Eaters.”

“Lucky Harry hit me with that spell then,” Draco said.

“Lucky I had the actual sense to tell someone,” Lyra said flatly. “If it were up to you, we would’ve probably still been stuck in that horrid situation.”

“All right, all right, no need to be cruel,” Draco said, slinging his arm over his sister’s shoulders. “Hey! We stayed out there longer than I planned. It’s dinner time.”

“Whoops?” Lyra said unapologetically.

“You little bitch,” Draco laughed, steering them into the Great Hall. “I’m completely covered in snow!”

“Drying Charm, darling,” Lyra said with a shake of her head. “Honestly, and you call yourself a wizard.”

Draco snorted and dropped into a free seat at the end of the Slytherin table. A moment before Lyra dropped down beside him, he was hit with a warming charm. He jumped in shock as steam floated off his body.

“A little warning next time would have been nice,” he said, glowering at Lyra.

She huffed and put her wand away. “I was sure our previous conversation was warning enough considering you did nothing about it.”

“No need to be snappy, Ly,” Draco teased. “And eat some vegetables. No one is going to want to date you if you look like a Weasley.”

“Hush Draco, the Weasleys are our friends now,” chided Lyra, but Draco smirked triumphantly as she added some vegetables to her plate.

“Old habits,” Draco said airily.

“So, tell me how our plan is going?” Lyra asked as she munched on a carrot.

Draco wrinkled his nose at her manners but obliged her.

“I still think you’re ridiculous and meddling,” he started, earning a half-hearted glare from his sister, “but I must admit that it has been quite nice talking to Harry more again.”

“See! I told you it would work!” Lyra said in delight. “Tell me _everything_!”

Draco rolled his eyes but dutifully explained how he and Harry had begun sitting together in other classes and taking the opportunity to just chat about their lives the way they had done during the summer. The main difference was that now they were both much more relaxed and carefree, the war having been many more months ago and not as fresh in their minds.

“I’m really happy for you, Draco,” Lyra said once he had finished. A large, genuine smile was stretching her face and Draco caught more than one person eyeing her appreciatively.

“Nothing’s happened yet,” Draco said, waving his hand. “We’re just talking.”

“It’s the perfect first step,” Lyra countered. “Have you thought of the possibility of asking him out? He’s obviously interested.”

“I don’t know that,” Draco replied. “Right now, he’s just being a good friend.”

Lyra huffed but didn’t say anything. She seemed to be thinking intently.

“Just do what feels comfortable for you, Draco,” she said eventually. “I have a good feeling about this.”

Draco raised an eyebrow at her. “You also had a good feeling about that hotdog at the fete this summer and you were puking for days.”

He ducked as Lyra swung at him. “That was one time, you bastard!” she cried, laughing brightly at him.

Lyra’s laughter was worth the bruises Draco got.


	7. Chapter Seven - Normal year? I think not

Harry sighed deeply and stared miserably at the window from his uncomfortable seat in the library. He shifted for the hundredth time and fiddled aimlessly with his quill; the ink long dry from the tip. Glancing hopelessly at the pile of parchment in front of him, he sighed again.

“For goodness sake, Harry! Stop sighing and actually do some study!” Hermione snapped at him, not even looking up from her own work.

“Hermione, we’ve been here for nearly four hours,” Harry complained. “N.E.W.T.s are months away.”

“Just because they’re months away doesn’t mean you should be slack with your study,” Hermione argued. “You both barely passed most of your exams last term. If you would just take a look at the study plan I made you – “

“One more word about that plan and I swear to Merlin my brain will explode,” groused Ron. Hermione huffed angrily and Ron hurried continued. “It’s not that we don’t appreciate your concern and effort, ‘Mione. It’s just that Harry and I aren’t suited to long study sessions like this. We’re not learning anything.”

“Fine then,” declared Hermione. “Leave if you’re not going to do anything. Heaven knows I would get more done without you both distracting me with your fidgeting and sighing.”

Harry didn’t wait another second. He gathered up his books and jumped to his feet.

“Good luck, Hermione,” he said in parting, dropping a hand to her bushy hair for a moment. He left the library, quickly followed by Ron.

“Do you think we managed to upset her?” he asked worriedly.

“Nah,” Harry responded. “I think she secretly wanted us gone a while ago.”

Ron nodded and brightened considerably. “So, what do you wanna do? I reckon it’s still too cold outside to fly, shame that.”

“Common room?” Harry suggested. “I honestly just want to be as far away from these books as I can possibly get without leaving the castle.”

Ron’s booming laughter echoed around the drafty corridor as they made their way up the various levels.

“So, mate, I’ve actually wanted to talk to you about something,” Ron started hesitantly.

Harry looked at him in trepidation. Ron wasn’t one to have heart-to-heart conversations unless it was really serious. Unfortunately, his freckled face wasn’t giving anything away.

“Yeah? What’s up?” Harry asked him.

Ron was silent for a moment longer before he said, “Well, the thing is…I’ve been thinking about seeing if it was possible for me and ‘Mione to share a room. It’s getting kinda difficult for us to have our own space, you know? But also, I don’t want you to think that I’m trying to kick you out of our room…”

Harry let out a laugh, a small part of him relaxing. “Ron, trust me mate, if I don’t have to worry about walking in and seeing your naked arse ever again, I could die happy.”

Ron blushed a deep red and scratched his neck awkwardly. A few weeks back, Harry had returned to his room to find his best friends in flagrante delicto. The scene was one that had caused Harry to sleep on the couch for many nights, unable to even meet either of their eyes until days later. Draco and Lyra had nearly shit themselves laughing when he told them and they even conjured a spare bed in Draco’s room for him so he didn’t have to be awoken by Neville’s early morning greenhouse visits.

“If you want to share with Hermione, I have no problem with it,” Harry continued.

Ron looked at him and released a breath. “Seriously?” he said in relief. “You’re the best, mate.”

“I know,” Harry replied. “Only problem will be trying to find where I could stay.”

“See, Hermione’s thought about that,” Ron confessed. “She’s sharing with Millicent Bulstrode and according to her, Lyra has been staying in Draco’s room so Zabini can stay with Parkinson. Hermione suggested that Lyra could move in with Bulstrode while you went into Draco’s room.”

Harry’s heart did an excited dance in his chest but he willed his voice to remain even.

“That sounds like it could work,” he said. “We’ll just have to talk to Draco and Lyra about it.”

Ron beamed at him. “You’re a life-saver, mate. Honestly.”

“Don’t worry about it, Ron,” Harry assured him. “I’m pretty sure it’s going to do me more good than you.”

“What do you mean by that?” Ron asked, frowning slightly.

“I’ll be less likely to walk in on you and Hermione again,” Harry said quickly. “I swear that took ten years off my life.”

“Oh, bugger off,” Ron said in embarrassment, pushing Harry gently as they arrived at the common room.

Unsurprisingly, Lyra was all for the idea of the room changes when Harry and Ron brought it up the next day. She was practically bouncing with excitement by the time they finished.

“That’s an excellent plan,” she told them brightly. “I absolutely adore Draco but there’s only so many times one can deal with their brother’s dirty laundry on the floor before one wants to murder said brother. It’ll be brilliant to share with Millie. She and I have hardly had any time for the two of us!”

She quieted down slightly and looked at Harry with a serious expression.

“And you’re definitely okay with this?” she asked him, her silver eyes regarding him intently.

Harry nodded and said, “Yep. It will be nice I think.”

Lyra hummed but didn’t say anything else on the topic. With a nod to them both in farewell, she raced across the common room and threw herself on top of Blaise, who was reclining on a couch.

“She’s got so much energy,” Ron commented, watching after the blonde girl. “Just watching her makes me tired.”

“I think she’s just letting herself have some fun,” Harry replied, watching the squabbling Slytherins fondly. Draco had gotten involved and was currently trying to prise Lyra’s hands off Blaise’s neck after the dark-skinned boy had apparently said something to annoy her.

Ron suddenly clapped Harry on the shoulder and declared, “Right! Well, I’ll go tell ‘Mione, shall I?”

“Do you want me to wait a few hours to come back to the room?” Harry asked slyly. “Or shall I just ask the house-elves to move my stuff?”

Ron flushed slightly but grinned. “Probably smarter to get the little fellas to do it. See you tomorrow, mate!”

 _Great_ , thought Harry. _Just what I needed._ All hopes of a normal year soared out of the room as the implications of his decision finally hit him. What sort of idiot was he to actually _agree_ to share a room with the boy he fancied? He wasn’t left with any time to spiral into a nervous breakdown, for Draco himself suddenly appeared before him.

“Hey Harry,” he said. “You’re looking a bit pale. Are you feeling okay?”

Harry blinked at him a few times before he remembered how to respond. “What? Oh, I’m fine. Just a bit tired.”

Draco didn’t seem to believe him but nodded anyway. “Lyra just told me about the room changes. You sure you’re okay with sharing with me?”

“Yes!” Harry said loudly. Draco looked startled by his enthusiasm so Harry quickly added, “I don’t mind at all. Unless you have a problem with it?”

To Harry’s delight, Draco blushed slightly when he replied, “None at all.”

Harry beamed at the other boy and raised a hand to run it through his hair, missing the way that Draco’s eyes darted down to the small strip of stomach revealed as his shirt lifted.

“Oi, Draco!”

Blaise’s shout made both Harry and Draco turn their attention away. The Slytherin was half off the couch now, Lyra perched above him, a pillow held threateningly in her hands.

“Draco! Help! Your sister is mental!” Blaise shouted, batting frantically at the pillow as Lyra struggled to press it against his face.

“We were already aware of that, Blaise,” Draco calmly replied. “Have you tried apologising?”

“Fuck that!” was the muffled reply.

“Won’t she hurt him?” Harry asked, watching the scene with a small amount of concern.

Draco just shrugged. “She hasn’t managed to kill him yet, I guess.” He turned to face Harry. “We should leave them, they’ll figure it out soon enough,” he said. “Do you want any help setting up your stuff? The only thing I ask is that you leave the bookcase alone – not even your Saviour status will save you if you mess up my books.

Harry hummed in agreement and held back a smile. Maybe this room-sharing business wouldn’t be so bad after all.

***

Harry was wrong. He was so very, _very_ wrong.

He had only been sharing a room with Draco for two weeks before he realised just how utterly fucked he really was. It was bad enough having to deal with all the emotions resulting from the various states of Draco he saw: sleeping Draco, studying Draco, reading Draco, morning Draco, half-naked Draco. It was the last one that was causing the majority of problems. It was the towel incident all over again. If Harry didn’t know any better, he would have been sure that Draco was tormenting him by displaying his perfect, glistening pale chest.

Harry was _not_ amused.

After a few days of walking around in a constant state of half-arousal after failing at not watching Draco spend way too long rubbing moisturiser into his skin each morning, Harry finally caved and went to the only person he could think of to help him.

Hermione.

“Please, ‘Mione, you don’t understand how bad it is,” Harry bemoaned. “He’s so gorgeous. I can’t deal with it. He’s going to kill me.”

“I really think you’re overreacting slightly, Harry,” she replied bluntly. “I doubt Draco is actively out to get you by showing off his chest.”

“You don’t know that!” Harry said shrilly.

Hermione levelled him with a quelling look. “Harry. Be real. The only reason you’re freaking out is because you haven’t plucked up the courage to ask Draco out yet.”

Harry spluttered helplessly but eventually snapped his jaw shut, crossing his arms over his chest with a huffed breath.

“Exactly,” Hermione went on. “I think you should listen to Lyra and just tell Draco how you feel. You’ve both been getting on splendidly the past few months. And it’s not like you don’t both flirt constantly.”

“We do not!” Harry said indignantly. “What are you on about?”

“Honestly, Harry. Not even you are that oblivious,” Hermione sighed. “You literally take every possibility you can to talk to Draco. It doesn’t even matter if you’re insulting each other or not.”

“That hardly seems like a healthy start of a relationship,” Harry deadpanned.

“It would be if you actually made the effort to start said relationship,” she replied reasonably. “I don’t want to hear any more about this until you figure yourselves out. Now leave me alone, I have an Arithmancy essay due tomorrow and I’m not done yet.”

When Hermione proved to be completely useless, Harry started paying more attention to the seemingly normal interactions between himself and Draco. He could admit to himself that they did spend a surprisingly large amount of time bickering but he had just thought that was a result of the years of antagonism from when they were younger. Now, however, he could see the difference.

It was in the way that Draco’s smirk was softer when he said, “Morning, Harry,” and the way that he would wordlessly hand Harry a cup of perfectly-made tea when they were both relaxing in their room. It was in the small corrections offered in Potions class, the bright laughter that came whenever Harry did something stupid or said something funny.

And as a result, Harry began to notice how he himself was reacting to Draco.

Each morning he would hand Draco his robes while the other boy was busy checking his bag. He would add a few more slices of toast to Draco’s plate, despite his assurances that he was not hungry, knowing that in a few hours, the blond would be complaining about lack of food. He would always flush whenever Draco flopped down next to him on the couch, despite there being armchairs nearby. Harry hated to admit it, but whenever Draco was around, Harry found himself falling into a confused, bumbling idiot.

And he wasn’t the only one who noticed.

“Honestly Harry, you just need to get your shit together.” Lyra’s statement was blunt and without warning.

“Hello to you too, Lyra,” Harry replied, calmly setting down his cup of tea. “How did you find me?”

“You left your map in your room,” Lyra said. She pushed him to the side to make more space on the window ledge that Harry had retreated to. “Hermione and Ron said they hadn’t seen you for a while so I thought you might have been wallowing in self-pity.”

“I don’t _wallow in self-pity_ ,” Harry said indignantly. Lyra scoffed and he frowned at her. “I don’t,” he repeated.

“Harry, you practically vanished after Draco said your hair looked less like a mess today than usual,” she pointed out. “He thinks he insulted you or something. If I hadn’t found the map first, I bet it would be him sitting here now instead of me.”

Harry smiled slightly at that thought and Lyra shook her head at him.

“Harry, I hate to be the one to say it but I think you’re going to find yourself running out of time,” Lyra said in a serious tone. “Draco and I are travelling once school’s over and if you haven’t told him how you feel by then…well…I don’t know if he will wait for you.”

A horrid feeling of dread began to rise in Harry’s chest at the idea. He hadn’t even thought about what he wanted to do after school ended and the idea of the future terrified him.

Lyra sighed and leant against him. One pale hand came to loop around his own, squeezing reassuringly.

“I think you’re overthinking it,” she commented. “Where did all that Gryffindor courage disappear to?”

“I think it fled with Voldemort’s Death Eaters,” he replied blandly. When Lyra flinched, he immediately realised his mistake. “Shit, sorry. That wasn’t funny.”

Lyra shook her head. “Forgiven,” she said. “Now, are you finally going to confess to Draco or will you continue the way you are?”

Harry thought about it hard for a long time, with Lyra patiently waiting beside him. Finally, he came to a conclusion.

“I know what I need to do,” he told her.

***

Draco was sitting at the desk in his and Harry’s room doing his latest Charms essay when Harry walked into their way. Draco glanced up and was surprised to see that the other boy had a determined look on his face, his hands clenched into tight fists at his side.

“Are you okay?” Draco asked him, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. “Lyra said she was going to look for you. I hope she didn’t do something to piss you off?”

“What? No,” Harry said distractedly. “I actually have to talk to you.”

“Oh?” Draco pushed his chair back and turned to face Harry, who was still standing in the doorway. “What do you want to talk about?”

Harry seemed to struggle with himself for a moment before he shut the door behind him and marched his way over to perch on the edge of Draco’s bed. His hands were still clenched fists in his lap but his face was smooth as he looked up at Draco.

“Harry, is everything okay?” Draco asked again, a hint of concern building inside him. In all the weeks they had shared a room, Draco had never seen Harry like this. It was slightly disconcerting.

“Hopefully,” Harry said, confusing Draco even more. Before Draco could comment, Harry began to speak again. “Right. I really don’t know how else to say this, so I’m just going to go ahead and say it.” He paused and took a deep breath.

Draco leant forward and said with slight trepidation, “Harry, what is it? You’re starting to worry me.”

“I like you,” Harry blurted out.

Draco blinked in shock and stared at the other boy, not wanting to believe his ears.

“I beg your pardon?” he said weakly.

Harry’s eyes locked with his and Draco felt something in his chest tighten at the sincerity in the green irises.

“I like you, Draco,” Harry repeated slowly. “Fancy you – whatever you want to call it. I, well, I want to take you out on dates and kiss you – _god_ do I want to kiss you – “

“Oh,” Draco said in a small voice. He was too astounded to say anything else.

Harry seemed to deflate slightly in front of him, some of the previous confidence and determination seeping out of him.

“I know it’s stupid of me to hope you feel the same but I couldn’t just let the year end without telling you how I felt,” Harry rambled. Draco’s brain was having difficulty processing the entire situation. “It’s just – you’ve changed so much in the last few years and now I can barely look at you without feeling the urge to just tell you how much I like you, so I just decided to go for it – well, with some prodding from Lyra, of course, because she somehow gets involved in everything.” Harry’s ramblings were now turning into low mutters and Draco suddenly snapped into realisation. “It’s – it’s okay if you don’t feel the same, obviously. Actually, I don’t know why I did this – it was stupid – “

“Harry?”

“Yes?”

“Please shut up.”

“Oh.” Harry sat staring at Draco, looking as if he was expecting the worst.

“You like me?” Draco asked very quietly, eyes locked on Harry’s face.

Harry nodded. “I do.”

Draco’s face split into a wide smile and he couldn’t help the pure happiness that burst out of him.

“You actually like _me!”_ he exclaimed. He leapt forward and wrapped his arms around a startled Harry, who grunted in surprise but held Draco tightly.

“Does this mean you like me to?” Harry asked him hopefully.

Draco drew back and said, “Obviously, you daft Gryffindor! I couldn’t have made it _more_ obvious.”

Harry frowned up at him slightly. “Then why didn’t you just tell me?”

“Do you think I have an ounce of courage within me, Harry?” Draco asked him incredulously. “Every time I tried to get the nerve to confess, I would always talk myself out of it with some half-arsed excuse. Lyra nearly started pulling _my_ hair out.”

Harry let out a loud laugh and rearranged them so that they were sitting side by side on Draco’s bed. One hand reached up to tentatively push back a loose strand of Draco’s hair.

“We’re a pair of idiots aren’t we?” he said, emerald eyes glistening brightly.

“That we are,” Draco agreed. “Please don’t run away.”

Harry frowned at him but Draco didn’t give him time to question before he leant forward and connected their lips. Harry let out a small gasp and pressed closer to Draco, wrapping his arms tightly around the blond. Their lips moved slowly against one other’s, exploring the new experience. It wasn’t as if Draco had never kissed another boy before, but kissing Harry felt different. It was full of passion despite being chaste; an expression of emotions long contained.

When they finally pulled back for air, Draco rested his forehead against Harry’s. Somehow, one of his hands had come to rest in Harry’s hair, his fingers tangling with the thick curls.

“It’s softer than it looks,” he said in surprise, running his fingers over the silky strands.

Harry huffed and laugh and kissed him again quickly.

“ _That’s_ what you comment on?” he asked, somehow pulling Draco impossibly closer.

“Well, to be fair it does look like a bird’s nest,” Draco pointed out. “You can’t blame me for being surprised that it doesn’t feel like that.”

Harry smirked and pressed a kiss to Draco’s cheek. “It’s because I’ve started using your fancy hair products,” he revealed.

Draco drew back with a noise of outrage but Harry followed him, effectively silencing him with a devouring kiss.

Oh, Draco could _definitely_ get used to this.

***

“You owe me five galleons, Ronald.”

Draco glared down at his sister. The moment he and Harry had appeared in the common room, Lyra had yelped in triumph and accosted the redhead.

Ron groaned and grudgingly handed over the coins. “He couldn’t have waited one more day,” he grumbled, shooting Harry a dirty look.

“What are you on about?” Harry asked, walking closer to the group with Draco trailing behind him.

“I believe they have been betting on us,” Draco observed, glaring at his sister again and receiving an unrepentant smirk in return.

“Well, it took you long enough,” Lyra said. “I swear, if I had to hear one more thing from either of you, I was going to lock you in a room until you shagged and figured it all out.”

Draco and Harry both blushed a bright red as their traitorous friends laughed around them.

“I thought I asked you to stay out of it?” Draco asked his sister. She shrugged.

“I did originally try,” she told him. “But after a few months of you both pining for each other with neither of you making any moves, I had enough.”

“It wasn’t _months_ ,” Harry murmured under his breath. Draco was delighted when Harry pulled him down beside him on the couch, tucking Draco securely under his arm.

Ron scoffed from the armchair across from them.

“Mate, even _I_ knew you liked each other,” he said. “When you and Lyra came back I was so sure that you would take the night to think about it and then confess to him in the morning but she was sure you would go straight to Draco.”

“I’m a genius,” declared Lyra. “We’ve discussed this, Ronald.”

“You’re a nuisance, that’s what you are,” Draco said half-heartedly. Lyra stuck her tongue out at him.

“So?” Pansy asked them, looking gleefully between Harry and Draco.

“So what?” Draco said.

“So did you shag?” Pansy smirked at them and scanned them over intently. “I can’t see any obvious hickeys but you could have healed them.

“Of course they didn’t,” Hermione interjected. Draco shot her a grateful look. “They weren’t in there long enough.”

Draco took back his gratefulness and shot her a glare.

“So, Saviour,” Blaise started, a smile stretching his face, “is Draco as good a kisser as he brags?”

Harry just smirked and pulled Draco closer. “That’s for me to know and you to never find out.”

Blaise pouted at him and said, “Unfair, Potter.”

“Do you have something to tell us, Blaise?” Draco asked teasingly. “I never would have guessed you swung both ways.”

“You can keep your cock to yourself, Draco, dear,” Blaise said breezily. “I’m not interested. Just wanted to know if your talents were actually as good as you said they were.”

“Okay, all talk about Draco’s cock stops now,” Lyra announced. “There are certain topics I will _not_ allow to be discussed.”

“Does that mean we can talk about Potter’s cock?” Pansy asked evilly.

“You’re all horrible,” commented Hermione calmly. “You’re traumatising poor Ron.”

Ron was in fact looking quite green around the edges. It wasn’t a particularly flattering look on him.

“I’m half-expecting a slug to come out,” Lyra said idly.

“Don’t be rude, Lyra,” chided Hermione.

“How is that being rude, ‘Mione?” Lyra asked innocently. “It’s merely an observation.”

“Well, I’m sure that was quite a harrowing time for Ron,” Hermione explained. “And having that associated with the image of his best friend’s genitalia may be unsettling.”

“Harry, stop them,” begged Ron. “Please, do something.”

Hermione and Lyra smirked at each other.

“Well, they seem to be getting along swimmingly,” Draco murmured to Harry.

“So it seems,” he replied. “Reckon we’ll get much shit if we left now?”

Draco smiled at him and Harry’s eyes dropped to his lips.

“I don’t care,” Draco declared, pulling Harry to his feet. He turned to address the rest of their friends. “Goodbye, peasants. We’re retiring for the night.”

“Use protection!” Pansy called after them.

“I’m not ready to be an aunt!” Lyra added dramatically.

The last thing Draco heard before he and Harry disappeared up the stairs was Lyra descend into a detailed explanation (lie) about male pregnancies for a horrified Ron.

***

Lyra was barely managing to keep her eyes open when an owl fluttered down in front of her at the breakfast table, a thick envelope clasped in its beak. She frowned around her cup of strong tea and took the letter. The owl hooted once, stole a piece of bacon from a nearby tray and then flew off.

Lyra turned the letter over curiously and blanched when she saw her mother’s handwriting. It wasn’t as if she wasn’t in contact with her mother, but it was unusual to get such a large letter; Lyra couldn’t help but be cautious.

It turns out she had every right to be.

As she scanned the letter for the third time, she found herself feeling surprisingly numb. Surely, she should be feeling _something_. She had thought she wasn’t heartless but apparently this was proving otherwise.

“What’s wrong?”

Lyra looked up to see that Hermione had joined her and was currently rummaging through her book bag with a piece of toast in her hand.

“This is the Slytherin table,” Lyra said.

“So?” Hermione said, shrugging. “Not like anyone really cares where the eighth years sit.”

She had a point. Usually, they grouped together at one of the tables, changing it up every now and again but it wasn’t strange to find one or two of them sitting at another House’s table.

Hermione finally found her book and then nodded at the letter that was still clasped in Lyra’s hand. “You looked distracted,” she said. “Is everything okay?”

Lyra frowned down at the parchment and answered quietly, “Mother just let me know that father died in Azkaban last night.”

Hermione gasped quietly and stopped what she was doing.

“Oh, Lyra – “ she said haltingly. “Are you – I mean, how are you holding up?”

Lyra shrugged. “I’m not really feeling much, if I’m being honest.”

“How? If you don’t mind me asking,” Hermione said, reaching across the table to rest a hand on top of Lyra’s.

“Apparently, he hadn’t been eating,” Lyra explained, her eyes tracing her mother’s careful words. “And one of the guards beat him up – mother thinks father might have antagonised him or maybe the guard lost someone in the war – anyway, he never recovered properly. His body failed him.”

“That’s horrible, Lyra,” Hermione breathed.

Lyra smiled ruefully. “You’re a good friend, Hermione. But you don’t need to pretend that you’re actually upset by his death. He was a horrid bastard and he deserved it.”

Hermione pursed her lips at Lyra.

“He was still your father,” she said quietly. “And if you’re grieving then I’ll be there for you.”

Finally, the emotions hit.

“He was my father,” Lyra said on a half-sob. “He was a selfish, arrogant, mindless follower but he was still my father.”

She dropped her head into her hands as hot tears escaped the corners of her eyes. She heard Hermione rush around the table to wrap her arms around Lyra, holding her close.

“He wasn’t always horrible, Hermione,” Lyra whispered. “He used to be kind, once. He would play with Draco and I. It was only when we started getting older that he began to focus on making us the perfect heirs. He gave us over to a madman, Hermione. How – how can I still grieve him when he willingly offered us up on a silver platter?”

“Lyra…” murmured Hermione. “You shouldn’t forget the bad things he’s done…but you should also hold onto the good. Your father – he made bad choices and his beliefs weren’t the greatest – “ Lyra let out a choked laugh at that – “but, I think in his own, twisted way, he cared about you and Draco.”

Lyra nodded but voiced the one final secret she hadn’t managed to tell anyone except Draco. “Hermione, I just – I _hate_ him. I hate him for sitting back and letting us get tortured, for letting me – for letting me be a _plaything_ for the Death Eaters.” She let out a low sob as Hermione registered her words.

“Oh my god,” the other girl said, sucking in a sharp breath. “You’re safe now, Lyra. No one can touch you.”

“I know,” Lyra assured her. “But he let it happen. And Draco did as much as he could but sometimes – sometimes he wasn’t there. And despite that, I’m still grieving for the bastard. How is that fair?”

“It’s not,” Hermione agreed. “But grief works in strange ways. Maybe you need this to finally overcome everything that happened. Maybe now, the last string connecting you to those experiences has been cut and you are free to go forward.”

“You sound much to wise for someone your age,” Lyra commented. She drew back from Hermione and wiped her face. “But thank you.”

Hermione looked at her sadly but without pity.

“I am sorry for your loss, Lyra,” she said sincerely. “I’m sorry you didn’t get to have a normal childhood and I’m sorry that your father let you get hurt.”

Lyra smiled wetly at her and grabbed the letter again.

“Mother wants Draco and I to come home for the weekend,” she told Hermione. “Apparently, she is going to contact McGonagall.”

“Are you going to go home?” Hermione asked her.

Lyra nodded. “I think I need to,” she said. “Cutting those last ties and all that.”

Hermione sighed and looped her arm with Lyra’s. “Do you think Draco got his own letter?”

Lyra nodded and said, “Mother sent him one as well. I bet he’s going to come down looking for me soon enough.”

“At least he has Harry,” Hermione offered with a smile. “And you have me and everyone else.”

“Thanks, Hermione,” Lyra said, a genuine smile breaking across her face. She took one last deep breath and cleared her throat. “Right. I’ve had my breakdown. I’ll be okay, now.”

“You know it’s okay if you’re not?” Hermione pointed out. “I was a mess when I couldn’t find my parents.”

“Yes, but your parents love you,” Lyra noted. “Lucius wasn’t much of a father to us ever since fourth year.”

A bell rang throughout the castle and Lyra realised that breakfast had finished. “We should get to class,” she told Hermione. When the other girl continued to eye her worriedly, Lyra laughed and said, “I’m _fine_ , Hermione. And besides, this will help me take my mind off things for a while.”

“If you’re sure…” Hermione said reluctantly. “I will willingly make any excuse if you need to get out of there.”

“You’re amazing,” Lyra said, pulling the other girl to her feet. “Now, let’s go annoy Flitwick.”

It was no surprise that Draco was quiet for the rest of the day. He had wordlessly sat beside Lyra in Charms and gripped her hand, but neither of them made any mention of their mother’s letter until late that night when they were huddled on Draco’s bed, finally alone.

“I’m not sure how I’m feeling,” Draco confessed to her, staring down at their clasped hands. “I know I should be sad but I think I’m more…relieved?”

Lyra nodded in agreement. “I understand,” she told him. “I cried on Hermione at breakfast but that was mainly because I was sad we never got to have a normal childhood. The Lucius that died wasn’t the father that cleaned our scraped knees when we were five. This Lucius was a hollow shell of the man he used to be.”

“When are we leaving again?” Draco asked her.

Lyra pulled out the second letter that had arrived at lunch and handed it to Draco. She knew that her mother had arranged for them to use the Headmistress’s Floo to travel to the Manor after classes tomorrow, giving them the weekend to deal with the funeral and everything that came after that.

“Do you think Andromeda and Teddy will come?” Lyra voiced. “Mother has apparently been living with them."

“When did she say that?” Draco asked.

“Christmas,” Lyra replied. “It was when you and Harry were too lost flirting with each other to realise there were others in the room.” Draco pinched her and she jumped away from him.

“You were just as bad with George,” Draco shot at her.

Lyra laughed at loud. “You’re talking nonsense,” she declared.

Draco just raised an eyebrow at her. “So you’re going to tell me you didn’t spend the entire night stuck at his side like you’d been bound?”

“I hadn’t seen him in ages,” argued Lyra. “We’re not dating.”

“Not yet,” muttered Draco. Lyra threw a pillow at him and he yelped as he tried dodged it.

“I guess it’s a good thing Easter holidays are coming up,” Lyra commented. “Perhaps mother would be inclined to let us spend them with Andromeda.”

“You just want to see Teddy,” Draco stated. He pegged the pillow back at her, hitting her in the face.

She spluttered and hissed, launching it back at him and causing him to fall flat on the bed. “Of course, I do!” she announced. “He’s nearly one! He can say my name now!”

“He can say ‘Ly’,” Draco said drily. “That’s not your name.”

“That’s what you call me,” Lyra pointed out. “And it’s close enough. He’s a baby.”

“I guess it’s better than you teaching him to say Coco,” Draco acquiesced. “I still don’t forgive you for that.”

“But isn’t he just the cutest when he screams ‘COCO!’ and his hair turns blond?” she pointed out. “Even your cold heart would melt at that.”

Draco smiled at that and shook his head. “I’ll let you have that because Teddy is truly an adorable child,” he said. “But nothing more.”

Lyra nodded her head in mock-seriousness. The façade lasted only moments before they looked at each other and burst into laughter.

“I don’t even know why we’re laughing,” Draco said after a few minutes. He was holding his side tightly and gasping for breath.

“I think we’re in one of the grieving stages or some shit,” Lyra replied. “We should ask Hermione.”

“I may pass, thanks,” Draco huffed. “Now get out, I want to kiss my boyfriend.”

Lyra frowned and slapped Draco’s arm. “You’re so rude!” she exclaimed. “What happened to being a loving brother?”

“That was before I got to snog Harry Potter,” Draco said with a large smirk. “That man is so fit.”

Lyra grumbled in annoyance but got off the bed. “I knew I should have seduced Harry first,” she said with a huff of breath. “Showed him what a _real_ Malfoy is.”

She ducked as Draco threw the pillow at her again and quickly left the room, laughing at Draco’s shouts that followed her.

***

It was a few hours before Draco and Lyra had to leave and Draco still hadn’t finished putting together a bag for the weekend. He was stood at the end of his bed, staring blankly at the collection of clothes and items he needed but not making any attempt to actually pack them away.

“Are you just going to keep staring at that or are you going to pack?” Harry asked him, coming up behind him and wrapping his arms around Draco’s waist. Draco relaxed back against his chest and turned his head so that Harry could press a kiss to his throat.

“It feels final if I pack,” Draco explained. “I don’t really want to go.”

“Well, the quicker you pack, the sooner it will all be over and you’ll be back here with me,” Harry reasoned. Draco shivered as Harry’s warm breath caressed his ear. “Besides, if you pack now, it gives us more time before you leave.”

“To do what exactly?” Draco asked, already raising his wand.

Harry hummed and whispered, “You’ll find out if you pack.”

Draco pouted slightly as Harry stepped away but dutifully waved his wand, sending his belongings into the small bag that Hermione had enchanted an undetectable extension charm on for him. Once he had finished, he turned to see Harry watching him with a small smile from his own bed.

“Well, I finished packing,” Draco said, stalking closer. “What plans have you got for us?”

Harry’s smile widened and he shrugged cheekily. “I don’t have any plans,” he admitted. “I just couldn’t stand you staring at that pile for another hour.”

“That was very Slytherin of you, Potter,” Draco drawled, dropping down to sit on Harry’s lap, his legs straddling the other boy’s hips. Harry’s arms came up to wrap around Draco’s waist, holding his securely.

“What can I say?” Harry shrugged. “You’ve rubbed off on me.”

“Not yet,” Draco whispered, lips pressed against Harry’s ear. He felt Harry shiver against him.

“That was horrible,” Harry announced. “I need some sort of repayment for how atrocious that innuendo was.”

“Oh really?” Draco asked. He ghosted his lips down Harry’s neck, coming to rest in the hollow where it met his shoulder. “What repayment do you desire?”

Another shiver wracked Harry’s body as Draco began to kiss the spot lightly, his tongue coming out to swirl against the warm skin.

“Well, you could start by kissing me properly,” Harry said breathily.

Draco smirked and pulled back, wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck.

“Was there a please in that, Potter?” he drawled.

Harry’s pupils dilated and he licked his lips.

“Please,” he whispered, his gaze locked on Draco’s lips.

Draco surged forward and caught Harry’s lips with his own, swallowing the other boy’s groan as he began to eagerly attack Harry’s mouth. Harry’s hand had dropped from Draco’s waist to his arse and pulled Draco even closer, pressing them tightly from chest to thighs. Draco snaked a hand up into Harry’s hair, gripping and tugging to tilt Harry’s head slightly to deepen the kiss. Harry’s tongue dove forward when Draco let out a gasp, one of Harry’s hands sliding under Draco’s shirt.

“Don’t toy,” Draco demanded. “Take it off.”

Harry didn’t argue and quickly tugged off Draco’s shirt, pulling his own over his head seconds later.

Draco would never get over the sight of a shirtless Harry Potter. Despite being scrawny growing up, months of good food and exercise had left Harry toned and simply _edible_.

“Fuck you’re hot,” breathed Draco. He ducked down to mouth against Harry’s chest, pushing him back slightly to get better access.

“You keep doing that and it’s going to get difficult to stop,” panted Harry as Draco’s tongue circled a raised nipple.

“Who says I want to stop?” Draco replied, grinding his hips down on top of Harry’s.

Harry groaned and suddenly stood up, hauling Draco up with him. Draco let out a shocked noise as Harry spun them around and lowered Draco to the bed, climbing on top of him and locking their mouths together. Draco arched up to meet him as Harry’s comforting weight pushed him into the bed. Draco’s fingers traced the muscles moving under the skin of Harry’s back as the other boy began to move against Draco slowly, his head dropping to mouth at Draco’s neck.

“At least let me get our pants off,” huffed Draco. “I don’t want to come in my pants like a fourteen-year-old.”

Harry drew back and Draco had to take a moment to recover from the sight of a debauched Harry Potter. His boyfriend’s lips were red and glistening and his hair was in even more disarray than usual. Somewhere along the line, his glasses had been discarded and Draco had never thought that Harry’s eyes could be so green. He was distracted from this, however, when Harry reached down and undid his pants.

“You sure this is okay?” Harry asked, hands hovering over Draco’s waistband. His eyes were locked on the obvious bulge beneath the slacks.

“Yes,” Draco said quickly, moving to shuck his slacks and pants off. Harry’s eyes practically devoured him as he lay back against the sheets and Draco felt a blush creep up his neck and cheeks. “Your turn,” he said.

Harry nearly fell off the bed with how fast he tried to undress. There was a brief pause as Harry shot a spell at the door before putting his wand to the side.

“Silencing and locking charms,” he said in explanation as he lowered himself over Draco once again. They both groaned at the feeling of skin on skin. “I don’t want anybody interrupting us.”

“Good idea,” hummed Draco. He wrapped a leg around Harry’s thighs and pulled until every inch of them were touching.

Harry was panting heavily above him and Draco gripped the sides of his face, pulling him down for a searing kiss. They had not gotten this far yet, having only really been dating for two weeks but the wait was definitely worth it. Harry began to thrust against Draco again and he couldn’t hold back the guttural moan that escaped him at the feel of Harry’s hard cock pressing against Draco’s own.

“Fuck,” huffed Harry. He kissed Draco again and increased his pace, rocking back and forth over sweat-slicked skin. “I’m not going to last long.”

“Neither,” panted Draco. He tightened his arms around Harry and rose his hips up to meet each of Harry’s thrusts.

Harry dropped his head to Draco’s neck with a pained moan, lips ghosting over the skin there. In turn, Draco latched onto the side of Harry’s neck, working steadily to leave a mark on his boyfriend – to show everyone that Harry was _his_.

“Draco – “ groaned Harry, his hips pushing harder and faster. The room was full of the sounds of skin hitting skin and their laboured breathing and Draco was extremely grateful for the silencing charm.

Draco began to quietly chant Harry’s name as he got closer to release, not even realising he was doing it until he was silenced by a kiss; Harry’s lips greedily moving over his own. He stiffened and let out a cry that was immediately swallowed by Harry as his orgasm hit him, muscles convulsing as waves of pleasure washed over him. Harry moaned his name as his rhythm faltered and he too fell over the edge, shuddering against Draco as he held Harry tight against his body.

Draco pressed small kisses behind Harry’s ear and along his jaw as the other boy recovered his breath and senses. When he had, Harry lowered himself carefully so that he wasn’t crushing Draco but was still pressed fully against him, both boys ignoring the sticky mess between them.

“Well, that was amazing,” Harry stated breathlessly. “Why did we wait to do that?”

“Because we’re not lust-crazy hooligans,” Draco said, huffing out a laugh.

Harry chuckled from above him. “I can’t believe you can still use words like hooligan,” he commented. “I can barely string together these sentences.”

“I always knew I was amazing,” Draco said on an exhale.

Harry propped himself up so he could look Draco in the eye.

“Have you ever…?” he asked hesitantly.

Draco shook his head, one finger moving of its own accord to brush down Harry’s face.

“No,” he said. “I was always expected to wait until marriage,” he explained. “It didn’t stop me from dating but I never thought I would be allowed to be with a boy.”

Harry nodded and pressed a kiss to Draco’s chest. “I haven’t either,” he said.

Draco frowned. “Not even with the She-Weasel?”

Harry rolled his eyes but shook his head. “I never dated her, Draco.”

Draco raised himself slightly and said in confusion, “Didn’t you? I really thought you had.”

“You were there for the shouting match,” Harry said, a smile playing at his lips. “I thought you knew I refused to date her.”

Draco felt a smirk cross his face and settled back down on the bed, pulling Harry snug against him. “Well, lucky for me then,” he said in satisfaction.

They lay there for a while longer, Draco idly tracing patterns on Harry’s back. At one point, Harry reached over to grab his wand to clean them up but settled against Draco again when he was done.

Eventually, however, Draco sighed and said, “We have to get up soon. I don’t want Lyra trying to get through the door with us like this.”

He could practically feel Harry pout against his skin.

“I’ll be back on Sunday,” Draco promised. He reluctantly eased himself out from under Harry and began to get dressed. At the last minute, he stole one of Harry’s large red sweaters, ignoring the smirk he got from the other boy.

“Shut up,” he mumbled. “It’s comfy.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Harry said, a smug smile on his face.

Before Draco could leave the room, Harry snagged his hand and drew him close.

“If you need me at any time, let me know,” he told Draco. “And I’ll come to you.”

Draco allowed himself to smile, knowing it would be hidden from Harry.

“Promise,” he said. Harry kissed him quickly. Draco pulled back and rolled his eyes. “Look at the sap you’ve turned me into,” he said dramatically. “I’ll never hear the end of it from Lyra.”

Harry just smiled at him. “It’s not such a bad thing.”

Draco rolled his eyes again and grabbed his bag. When he got to the door he turned around and said quietly, “Bye Harry.”

“Bye Draco.”

***

The funeral was just as painful as Lyra thought it would be. Narcissa spent most of it silent with tears streaming down her eyes. Considering it was a private event, only Lyra, Draco and Andromeda saw this unusual display of emotion. Lyra spent the entire service gripping tightly to Draco’s arm, praying for it to just _finish_.

The only reprieve she got was after the service. Andromeda had left Teddy at the Burrow and Molly Weasley invited them all over for tea. Amazingly enough, Narcissa didn’t hesitate to accept. It seemed that her reconciliation with her sister had also gotten her in contact with the Weasley matriarch. It might have also been a result of the Weasley’s sheltering Lyra and Draco when they had nowhere else to go.

Lyra was sitting in front of the fire, playing a nonsensical game with Teddy and Draco as the older women sat chatting in the kitchen when the backdoor suddenly opened and George walked through.

“What are you doing here?” she asked him, rising from the floor to give him a hug.

“Mum told me about the funeral,” George said in explanation. “I thought I would drop by to see how you were doing.”

“I’m fine,” Lyra told him truthfully.

“I am also fine,” Draco piped up from the floor. He was holding Teddy’s hands in his own and began moving them up and down to the delight of the one-year-old. “Don’t you think George was rude for excluding us, Edward? You’d think he only had eyes for my sister.”

“Oh, bugger off, Draco,” Lyra snapped. “Or I’ll tell mother exactly what you got up to this afternoon.”

Draco blanched and turned away from them. “Carry on,” he said in a strained voice.

George raised an eyebrow at Lyra in amusement. “Care to share what he got up to?”

Lyra laughed and dragged George out of the living room and into the backyard. “Let’s just say that he has recently begun dating Harry and I may have noticed a hickey on his neck earlier.”

“ _No_ ,” George said in delight. “Little Draco is all grown up.”

Lyra snorted and linked her arm with George. “I dare you to say that to his face.”

“I’ll do it if you make sure your mum is in the room,” countered George.

Lyra burst out laughing. The blanket of grief that had seemed to hang over them all ever since finding out the news of her father’s death floated away on a laughter borne breeze, and Lyra felt free once again.

“It’s good to see you,” she told George as they stopped beneath a giant oak tree.

George scratched the back of his head. “I’ve been meaning to drop by Hogsmeade,” he said apologetically. “But it’s been really busy at the store and Verity’s been off for the hols.”

Lyra frowned at him. “Why didn’t you get someone else to work with you?” she asked. “Don’t tell me you worked all those hours yourself?”

George coughed awkwardly and avoided her eye. Instead, he jumped and grabbed the lowest branch, pulling himself up into the tree.

“Don’t you dare run from me, George Weasley!” Lyra shouted.

George snickered and looked down at her. “You’re less scary when you’re down there. Shame you can’t reach.”

“You’re such a dick, Weasley!”

“Sorry, what was that? I can’t hear you from all the way up here.” George continued climbing higher after waving sarcastically down at Lyra.

She huffed and rolled her eyes. Looking up at the tree, she tried to determine how high she would have to jump to actually _grab_ the branch.

“Fuck it,” she muttered. Taking a running start, she leapt at the tree and managed to grab the branch. It was only years of Quidditch training with Draco that gave her the ability to pull herself up.

“Ha!” she exclaimed, shooting George the finger. “Fuck you, Weasley.”

George’s eyes suddenly filled with fear and Lyra scampered up the branches.

“Oh shit,” she heard him curse as he quickly began to lose places to step.

Crowing in triumph, Lyra jumped above him, her slighter weight allowing her to sit precariously on a branch that George couldn’t.

“I win,” she said smugly.

George rolled his eyes at her and settled more securely on his branch.

“You’re such a child sometimes,” he said. “Who knew you were eighteen?”

“Says you, carrot,” Lyra retorted. “Aren’t you like ancient now?”

“I am _twenty_ , excuse you!” George exclaimed indignantly. “I should have pushed you.”

“If you had then you would have felt guilty,” Lyra pointed out, booping George on the nose.

He scrunched up his nose and glared at her. “I doubt it,” he deadpanned.

“So, apart from you working completely _ridiculous_ hours,” Lyra said conversationally, “what else has been going on while I’ve been at school?”

George thought for a moment, tapping his finger to his chin. “Well,” he said dramatically, “Verity has got herself a girlfriend.”

Lyra nearly fell out of the tree.

“No way!” she exclaimed in disbelief. “Who? When? _How_? Give me details!”

George laughed at her and explained how one day a young woman spilt an entire jar of Sleekeazy’s over Verity as they bumped into each other at the entrance to Weasley’s Wizards Wheezes and offered to buy lunch to make it up to her. Needless to say, Verity soon fell head-over-heels.

“She’s been quite sickening, actually,” George admitted. “If I have to hear one more thing about how the sun shines off Kaley’s hair, I might just go stick my head into one of my experimental potions.”

“Ugh, I know the feeling,” Lyra groused. “I was very nearly ready to smash Draco and Harry’s heads together before they finally started dating.”

George cringed. “Yeah, I could imagine that would be bad. I remember them at Christmas.”

“Exactly what I said!” Lyra exclaimed. “Shit!” She quickly regained her balance, the branch swinging wildly beneath her.

“Perhaps you should come down a bit?” George suggested, watching the branch sway with concern.

Lyra nodded in agreement and focused on getting down without falling, but her foot slipped and she fell off her branch. Before she could do more than suck in a startled breath, hands wrapped around her and pulled her tight against a solid chest.

“Holy shit, don’t scare me like that!” George cried breathlessly, his voice slightly higher-pitched than usual. “I thought I was going to have to explain to your mum how you died!”

“And your mum, don’t forget that,” Lyra added weakly. She leant back against George as she caught her breath. “That was scarier than I thought it would be.”

George nodded in agreement. “We should use charms to get back down.”

“Or we could Apparate?” suggested Lyra.

George huffed a laugh and let go of her so that she could turn around to face him. His back was pressed up against the trunk of the tree as he sat straddling a thick branch. Lyra found herself practically in his lap. They both seemed to realise their position at the same time, for a red flush was making its way up George’s neck. Lyra felt her face heat up slightly in response but didn’t move back, unsure whether the branch would continue to take her weight.

“Thanks for not letting me fall,” Lyra said quietly with a small smile.

George grinned back at her. “Don’t be such a klutz next time.”

It happened so fast that Lyra wasn’t entirely sure who moved first. All she knew was that a moment later, her arms were wrapped around George’s neck as his gripped her waist, their mouths pressed together. When they pulled back, she was fully sitting on his lap but neither of them seemed inclined to move.

“So…” she said haltingly.

“That happened…” George continued. His hands were still planted securely on her waist.

Lyra nodded; one hand toyed with a longer strand of George’s hair as they continued to look at each other.

“What does this mean?” she eventually asked.

George shrugged slightly. “I…have no idea…” he admitted. “I think most people would either try again or admit it wasn’t good.”

“Should we?” Lyra said, not meeting his eye.

“Should we what?”

“Try again?” she clarified. She caught his gaze and saw the way that his eyes lit up in interest and question.

Slowly, as if afraid to startle her, George nodded and leant closer to her. She closed her eyes and met him halfway. This kiss was slower, more controlled, purposeful. Lyra gripped George’s shoulders for balance as he leant against the tree, ensuring that neither of them fell off the branch.

After a few slow minutes, Lyra pulled back.

“Well,” she said, blinking at George, “this is definitely unexpected.”

George let out a bark of laughter but didn’t let go of her.

“Judging from the way that you aren’t trying to escape, I’d say it’s not a bad unexpected?” George guessed.

“No, it’s just because I don’t want to fall off,” Lyra teased. “I definitely think your technique could improve.”

“Is that right?” George asked with a smirk. “Are you offering to help teach me?”

 _Smooth_ , Lyra thought. She smiled back at him.

“We’ll see,” she told him, pecking his lips again briefly. “But let’s maybe head down before we get caught snogging in a tree by my brother or mother.”

“Or my mother,” George added in a horrified whisper.

With a lot more skill than before, Lyra climbed down the tree, with George helping her out of the last branch. That move ended in a hurried kiss as they stood against the trunk, Lyra’s back pressed to the sun-warmed wood.

“Will you punch me if I asked you out on a date?” George asked as they slowly made their way back towards the house.

Lyra snorted. “Why do people always think I’m so violent?”

“Maybe because they’ve met you?” George offered, ducking as she swiped at him. “See?” he exclaimed. “You’re dangerous!”

Lyra giggled and took George’s arm, draping it over her shoulder. He pulled her tighter against him in response.

“To answer your question,” she said, “no, I will not punch you if you asked me out.”

“Excellent,” George announced. “How about next Hogsmeade visit we annoy Rosmerta together?”

“You’re so romantic I may just fall for you here and now,” Lyra deadpanned.

“You already did,” George snickered. “Yet again, that was nearly out of a tree so I’m glad you didn’t.”

He didn’t manage to dodge Lyra’s next punch.

***

Unsurprisingly, it was Hermione who first figured out that Lyra and George were now dating. The unexpected part of it was that apparently, she had connected the dots after an observation from Ron.

“Apparently, he found it odd that George was seen around Hogsmeade,” Hermione explained to a dumbstruck Lyra. “But then he said that George was probably there to see you. That was as far as he got, truthfully, I figured out the rest.”

“That’s only because you knew I had a date,” Lyra said accusingly.

Hermione shrugged unapologetically. “I’m happy for you,” she said.

“I’m not!” Ron exclaimed. “She’s dating my brother!”

“So?” Hermione asked with a frown. “Why does that matter?”

“Because he’s my brother!” Ron cried.

“You’re not making any sense, Ronald,” Draco stated drily, not looking up from where he was helping Harry with his Potions essay. “You didn’t make this much of a fuss when I started dating Harry.”

“I did, you just didn’t see it,” muttered Ron under his breath.

“Basically, you have no reason to act like this,” summarised Lyra, tapping her quill feather against her cheek. “And besides, is there actually any problem with George and I dating? It’s not like I’m dating you.”

Ron’s face scrunched up unattractively and he shuddered. “Thank Merlin for that,” he said.

Lyra didn’t know if she should be insulted or not.

“Hello everyone,” a lilting voice said from beside their table.

They all looked up to see Luna standing in front of them, her hair a blond cloud around her face. Behind her, Ginny was standing with her arms crossed over her chest, glaring at Harry and Draco. Lyra internally winced. Apparently, the other girl hadn’t gotten over Harry’s rejection quite yet.

“I heard you were dating George Weasley, Lyra,” Luna continued. “Congratulations. It will help with both your Nargle problem.”

Lyra wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that. “Er – thanks, Luna,” she eventually decided to say. “Do you want to sit with us?”

“Oh, no thank you,” Luna said sweetly. “Ginny won’t like that very much because she’s still angry at Harry. I just wanted to say hi to you all.”

An awkward silence descended upon them before Luna was dragged away by a fuming Ginny, waving cheerfully at them all as she went.

“Well…” Ron started.

“Don’t say anything,” Harry warned him. “I don’t want to deal with that now.”

“I don’t understand why she hasn’t gotten over it yet,” Lyra complained. “I mean, it’s been over a year!”

“Well, not really,” Hermione said slowly. “I think Ginny expected to get together with Harry when the war ended but when he rejected her…well, she took it quite hard.”

“But she’s usually so reasonable,” Lyra argued. “Yet she reacted really badly.”

“I know she liked me but this is ridiculous,” Harry said. “It wasn’t like I led her on or anything. I’m pretty sure I was just as attentive to Draco in sixth year as I am now.”

Lyra saw Draco preen at Harry’s words and rolled her eyes at her brother. He stuck his tongue out at her in response.

“Ginny’ll get over it,” Ron assured Harry. “Especially considering how good you and Draco are together. Not even she’s cruel enough to ruin that.”

Harry looked quite touched by his best friend’s words and he rested an arm over Draco’s shoulders.

“Anyway,” Hermione added. “I heard that she might be getting back together with Michael Corner. They were spotted in an alcove on the fifth floor a few nights ago.”

“They were _what_?”

Hermione still hasn’t forgiven Ron for getting them kicked out of the library.


	8. Chapter Eight - The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know things move quickly/start to decline towards the end but I hope you still all like it :)

With N.E.W.Ts and graduation looming closer, Harry and his friends commonly found themselves taking opportunity of the warmer weather to study outside. His boyfriend always had a textbook in front of him and merely hummed when Harry lay in his lap, resting the book on Harry’s head and carding his fingers through Harry’s hair. Harry found it quite a nice place to relax when his brain began to fail from all the knowledge he was trying to cram in. Luckily enough, Draco had willingly helped him with Potions and Transfiguration – Harry would never admit to anyone that he usually offered rewards if Draco helped, that was to be kept between them – and now Harry felt quite confident with his classes. Of course, he still mucked around in Charms with Ron but some stern words from Lyra and Hermione had soon prodded them to start taking the class seriously.

“I honestly can’t wait until this is over,” Lyra groaned, flopping down beside Harry and resting her head on his stomach. “If I never have to look at another book about Goblin wars, it will be too soon.”

“Lyra, if you stop working then the boys will too!” Hermione chided.

Lyra hummed. “Hermione, they’ve already given up. Ron is practically drooling over there and Harry would rather whisk his boyfriend away than continue to study.”

“True,” Harry confirmed, closing his eyes against the sun shining through the tree leaves they were under. “But that’s just because Draco’s hair looks stunning in this light.”

He peeked open one eye to see that Draco’s cheeks had turned a dusty pink, but the boy kept diligently reading.

“Come on, Coco,” whined Lyra. “You’ve read that book about ten times already! I _know_ you know it by heart.”

“It’s always good to get a comprehensive understanding of the content,” Draco said wisely. “Just because you were dumb enough to take History of Magic isn’t my fault.”

Lyra huffed and shuffled around until she obviously found a more comfortable spot.

“Father made me take it, remember?” she sighed. The air around them chilled slightly. “But at least I got to get out of Astronomy. Seems slightly pointless when you’re literally named after a constellation.”

Draco snorted at his sister. “You just hated how you could never remember all the moons of Jupiter.”

“It’s so stupid!” Lyra exclaimed. “Why are there so many _on top of_ everything else we have to learn?”

Hermione made a noise as if to answer but Ron quickly spoke up. “’Mione, we love you but _please_ don’t.”

Harry couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him at the image of his best friend looking disgruntled because she didn’t get to answer a question.

“I’m personally looking forward to summer,” Lyra went on.

“Have you and Draco decided where you want to go first?” Hermione asked the other girl.

“Yes, actually,” Draco said, at last closing his book. His fingers clasped more securely into Harry’s hair and he felt himself relax even more from that simple gesture. “We’ve decided to go to France first.”

“Mother says we still have access to our property over there,” Lyra added, sitting up off Harry’s stomach. “And Pansy and Blaise will be going over at the same time. We’ll help get them settled before moving on.”

“Sounds nice,” Hermione said with a small smile.

Harry agreed but couldn’t help the small part of him that wilted at the idea that Draco would soon be leaving him for an undetermined amount of time. They had just finally gotten to enjoy each other as boyfriends and already there was the possibility it would end.

Something must have shown on his face because Draco leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to Harry’s lips. “Everything okay?” he whispered.

Harry opened his eyes and smiled up at his boyfriend. “Yeah,” he lied.

Draco obviously didn’t believe him, for he moved to stand up, pulling Harry to his feet.

“Harry and I are done for today,” Draco announced. “Good luck, losers.”

“Love you too, bastard,” Lyra laughed, flipping him the finger.

Draco shot her two fingers in response and began dragging Harry away, Lyra’s parting shout echoing on the air behind them.

“Be safe, you insatiable lovebirds!”

“She’s completely shameless,” Draco muttered to Harry, shaking his head as they left the trio behind them. “One would think she would have more decorum due to her upbringing.”

Harry laughed slightly and wound his arm around Draco’s waist, pulling the boy as close as he could without restricting their movement.

“I think George has rubbed off on her,” he commented. “They’re actually quite good together.”

Draco’s face softened into a smile, one that Harry knew he would be embarrassed for anyone else to see. It made Harry feel warm – despite the ridiculousness of that concept – at the knowledge that Draco was willing to let down his guard around Harry, showing him the genuine, unadulterated Draco Malfoy.

“Believe me, I was just as surprised,” Draco told him. “But I think it’s because of how they helped each other heal after the war. Did you know that George saved Lyra from falling when she was looking for me during the battle?”

Harry shook his head. He had never known the details of how the two had befriended each other.

Draco nodded in reflection. “Yes. Lyra and I were separated and she was apparently beyond distraught. Turns out, George found her right before she would have gone over the edge. He had just lost his twin so he understood her fear. That seemed to be the real start of their friendship.”

Harry’s heart panged at the mention of Fred but he was glad that both George and Lyra had gotten consolation and comfort from each other. He drew Draco closer, dismissing the realisation of how close he had been to losing the other boy.

“This was when you were saving me from that fire,” Draco continued quietly. “I guess Lyra and I were lucky enough to have been saved by someone who would become extremely important to us.”

Harry glanced down at Draco to find him already staring at Harry. They had nearly arrived at their common room when Draco stopped, pulling Harry until he leant against Draco, the blonde’s back against the stone wall.

“Thank you for pulling me from that fire,” Draco told him.

Harry smiled brightly at Draco and stole a quick kiss from him.

“You’ve already done all the thanking and apologising you need to,” he replied. “You’ve even prohibited me from doing any more.”

“That’s because you feel the need to apologise for everything,” Draco drawled fondly, rolling his eyes.

“The only regret I have is not saving you sooner,” Harry whispered against Draco’s lips. The other boy shivered and pressed closer to Harry.

“That doesn’t matter now,” Draco said determinedly. “What matters now is the future.”

That reminder brought forth the negative thoughts that had been swirling around Harry’s mind recently. He hummed softly and embraced Draco, not willing to let him go any time soon.

“I want you to come travel with us.”

Harry drew back in surprise at Draco’s words.

“What?” he gasped.

Draco placed his hands on either side of Harry’s face and stared him in the eye.

“I want you to travel with us – with me,” he repeated. “I’ve already spoken with Lyra about it and she doesn’t mind. She wants you there as well.”

“Wha – why?” Harry said in confusion. “I thought this was meant to be between you and Lyra?”

Draco smiled softly at him. “It was meant to be an opportunity to escape and explore for a while,” he corrected. “But I don’t want to do that without you.” He paused and added quietly, “Unless you don’t want to go?”

“No!” Harry said quickly. “I mean yes – of course, I want to go! Absolutely! When do we leave?”

Draco laughed loudly, the sound echoing along the empty corridor.

“That’s what I wanted to hear,” he said, a second before he captured Harry’s lips with his own.

They barely made it to their room before Draco was on top of Harry, pushing him onto the bed. Harry had already managed to get Draco’s shirt off and eagerly ran his hands up over the pale muscles, savouring the small noises that escaped his boyfriend. Draco lowered his head to Harry’s neck and Harry knew that there was going to be a mark left behind – correction: _multiple marks_.

They rutted slowly against each other as they explored their bodies, finding the spots that would cause one to groan or the other to shiver in delight. Draco reached between the pair and undid their slacks, pulling and tugging until they were both naked, Harry staring up at Draco’s lust blown silver eyes. In one smooth moment, Harry flipped them over and descended down Draco’s body, sucking Draco’s waiting cock into his mouth.

“Shit,” gasped Draco, trying and failing not to arch up at the sensation Harry knew was fighting with me.

Harry smirked around Draco’s cock and began moving with practiced precision; the past few weeks had been extremely enlightening, in more than one way, he thought in retrospect. Draco’s hand tugging at Harry’s hair made him pause and sit up, an eyebrow raised in question.

“I want you to fuck me,” Draco said breathlessly.

Harry stared at him dumbstruck for a few moments before Draco slapped his arm gently.

“Did you just break?” Draco asked on a laugh. “Because I will _not_ be happy if you did.”

Harry quickly shook his head and caught Draco’s mouth in a needy kiss.

“No,” he said in between kisses, “I was just surprised and very, _very_ excited.”

“Prove it then,” Draco taunted. He stretched himself out beneath Harry and Harry thanked whatever god had made it possible for him to experience this moment.

With a shaky hand, Harry leant over and grabbed the small tub of lube from their bedside table. George had sent it to him as a joke a few weeks after Harry had blurted out he was gay but recently, it had found its usefulness.

“Are you sure?” Harry checked. “Because we can just do it the way we already have – “

“Harry,” Draco stopped him. “I want to do this with you.” Harry stared in wonder at his gorgeous boyfriend, who rolled his eyes, his cheeks pink, and said, “Now will you stop looking like a hopeless hooligan and get one with it?”

“That’s not very romantic,” muttered Harry.

Ignoring Draco’s amused snort, Harry slowly began working one finger into Draco, going slow and checking for any discomfit. Two, three fingers later and Draco finally nodded.

“I’m ready,” he said, his voice slightly strained.

“You sure?” Harry said. “I think maybe a bit longer – “

“For Merlin’s sake, Potter! Stick your cock in me now or I swear to Merlin I’ll kill you!” Draco practically shouted, pulling Harry down for a bruising kiss.

Harry lined himself up and slowly, _so slowly_ pushed in. He stopped when Draco winced, his body shaking with the effort to not just _move_ , to _take_.

“This okay?” Harry asked, when he was finally completely sheathed.

“More than,” Draco replied dazedly. “Just…go slow?”

Harry nodded and leant down to kiss Draco gently as he slowly began to thrust in and out, barely containing a low groan at the sensation of tight heat constricting against his cock.

“Merlin,” he panted.

“Mmhhmm,” Draco hummed, entwining his legs around Harry’s waist and pulling his body closer.

The new angle made Draco gasp on Harry’s next thrust.

“Keep doing that,” Draco said urgently. Harry wordlessly obeyed, his pace gradually increasing until he and Draco were moving against each other without abandon, gasps and pants filling the room as they both reached for their release. Harry nipped and kissed at Draco’s neck, pink and red marks quickly showing up on the pale skin. A small part of him felt bad about how bad the bruises would probably be but a large part of him felt satisfied that it was an obvious display saying Draco was _his_.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Draco cried suddenly, tensing around Harry. “Harry – kiss me – “

Harry kissed him. Kissed him with all the emotions he was currently feeling as he pushed toward the edge, milking the last of Draco’s pleasure as he went until finally, he tipped over the knife’s edge. Shuddering and gasping for breath, Harry stilled in Draco, groaning when the other boy ran his hands reverently up and down Harry’s back and side.

Draco placed small, open mouth kisses wherever he could reach as Harry slowly caught his breath, pulling gently out of Draco.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked when the other winced.

Draco shook his head and kissed him slowly. “No, it just felt weird.”

Harry sighed happily grabbed his wand to clean them up without separating his mouth from Draco’s. They continued to kiss leisurely as they lay together, soaking up the comfort of each other’s presence in relaxed bliss.

Their peace was interrupted by a loud knocking on their door.

“Oi! Dinner’s in ten minutes and I expect you both there!” Lyra’s voice shouted from the other side of the wood. “And you better be dressed in five minutes or I’m coming in there!”

“Did you put the spells on the door?” Draco asked Harry, rolling his eyes at his sister’s antics.

Harry nodded and burrowed his nose into Draco’s hair, inhaling the familiar smell of mint and cedarwood.

“We should go,” Draco said with a sigh after another minute had passed. Harry grumbled and cuddled closer to Draco, not wanting to move from his warmth. Draco laughed and pushed gently at Harry. “Harry, come on,” he said, kissing his nose in apology. “I don’t particularly want my twin to see me arse naked.”

“I guess you have a point,” Harry begrudgingly agreed. “But it is an _excellent_ view.”

“Shut up, you sap,” Draco laughed, rising from the bed. He threw a clean shirt at Harry and pulled on his own, quickly finding his pants and slacks. Harry followed him, pulling on the first pair of jeans he could find and running a hand through his hair.

“Bloody hell, Harry, what did you do to my neck?” Draco exclaimed, holding his collar down in front of the mirror.

Harry stepped up behind him and wrapped his arms around Draco’s neck, dropping a kiss to one of the many reddening marks on the blonde’s neck.

“Sorry?” he said, not sounding sorry at all.

Draco scoffed and tied his tie. “At this rate, I’m going to have to wear a scarf constantly.”

“It’s not like people don’t know we’re together,” Harry said, frowning slightly at the idea that perhaps Draco _didn’t_ want people to know.

“Obviously,” Draco said dismissively. “That’s not the issue. The issue is that I don’t want to look like some bawd in public.”

Harry snorted and shook his head. “You look sinful, that’s what you look.”

“Real charmer you are,” Draco deadpanned. “Now let’s go before my sister makes true on her threat.”

They made it to the common with twenty seconds to spare.

***

“Well, that could have gone worse,” Lyra commented idly as they left the last exam of their schooling career.

“Please don’t say that, Lyra,” begged Ron. “I don’t want to think about it. Why on earth did they make Potions last? It’s like they’re asking us to fail.”

“I think I did quite well,” Draco said brightly. “I did love that question on differential stirring methods in conjunction with the use of dried Hellebore stems.”

“Yes, I was positively thrilled by that,” Harry replied sarcastically. “Now, can we stop talking about exams and enjoy the fact that we’re done for good?”

“Let’s go to the lake!” Lyra shouted, jumping up and down in delight. “It’s finally a hot enough day that we can swim!”

“We’re meant to pack – “ Hermione started but Lyra tutted and waved a finger.

“We aren’t leaving until for two days,” Lyra said. “Just let us have fun. You’ll love it.”

Reluctantly, Hermione agreed and twenty minutes later found Lyra, Hermione, Millicent and Pansy all waiting in the common room for the boys. Finally, Ron, Harry, Draco and Blaise drifted down the stairs, each with a towel wrapped around their necks and nothing else on but swimming trunks.

Lyra elbowed Millicent and stage-whispered, “I told you that you would get a lot of eye candy.”

“Two of them are gay and one of them is your brother,” Millicent said flatly.

“But that leaves three of them we can ogle,” Lyra countered. “Draco won’t mind me eyeing his _exquisite_ boyfriend, will you, Coco?”

“Absolutely not,” Draco said immediately. “Only I can ogle Harry.”

“And you better leave me alone too, Lyra,” warned Ron.

“I never know if you’re more scared of me or Hermione,” Lyra pondered.

“Hermione,” answered Ron, Harry, Draco and Blaise in unison.

“I’m offended,” pouted Lyra. “I’ve lost my Icy Bitch charm.”

“Don’t worry, Malfoy, you’ll never truly lose that,” Nott called from across the room where he was sitting with Daphne.

“Fuck off, Nott or you’ll never have children,” Pansy replied sweetly. “Now hurry along, you overgrown ratbag.”

Their group burst into snickers as Nott and Daphne retreated upstairs with hate-filled glances.

“Right!” announced Lyra, addressing the rest of the common room. “Now the stench is gone, we’re all going to the lake if anyone wants to join?”

It ended up being the entire eighth year class, minus Nott and Daphne, down at the lake. Competitions began to form regarding the strangest ways that people could contort their bodies as they were launched into the lake by Hermione’s levitation charms. Most of the girls decided to soak up the sun on the side, but Lyra and Parvati soon challenged Dean and Seamus to a wrestling competition, with Lyra and Dean emerging victorious. When she versed Draco and Harry, however, they vaulted at her and dunked her in the water.

“That’s payback for teasing me about my hickeys,” Draco said, pushing his wet hair back from his face and helping Lyra regain her footing.

“You can’t exactly blame me,” Lyra pointed out. “You look as though you’ve been attacked by a vampire.”

“Nope!” Pansy shouted gleefully from her perch on Blaise’s shoulders. “Just a ravenous Potter.”

“Shut up, Parkinson,” Harry exclaimed. “You talk as if you never walk around with marks on your neck or on Blaise’s.”

“Yes, but I display them purposefully,” Pansy purred. “I’m _very_ proud of my work.”

Harry was saved from responding by Ron and Neville jumping on his back, sending all three of them tumbling into the cool water.

The afternoon passed quickly in childish games and shenanigans, with a hastily eaten snack provided by house elves, until at last, it was nearly time for dinner. Draco hung an arm around Lyra’s shoulder as they walked back to the common room, skin and clothes dry from last-minute spells.

“It’s been ages since we’ve done something like that,” he said contemplatively.

“I don’t think we’ve _ever_ done anything like that, Draco,” Lyra corrected. “We had sticks shoved way too far up our arses.”

Someone, who sounded suspiciously like Hermione, snorted in amusement behind them. Lyra and Draco ignored them and continued to walk at a leisurely pace.

“I think I’m going to miss this place,” Lyra voiced suddenly. “Sure, sixth year wasn’t too great, but we still had fun.”

Draco hummed in acknowledgment and then smirked. “Do you remember when we convinced Flitwick that you were actually me in fourth year? And you managed to get me out of detention?”

Lyra snorted violently at the memory. “That was only because you decided not to cut your hair the entire year. I just so happened to prefer a shorter style at the same time.”

“I can’t believe he bought it,” Draco grinned. “Blaise was so angry.”

“We couldn’t manage that now,” Lyra said. “I would have to wear extremely baggy robes.”

“Oh, I don’t know, I think you could get away with it.”

“You take that back, you bastard!”

“Never! Wait – Lyra – _stop hitting me_!”

“Not until you apologise!”

“You’re a horrid nuisance!” Draco laughed and successfully grabbed Lyra’s hands, securing them against their bodies. “I’m sorry you said you could pass as a boy.”

“Thank you,” Lyra sniffed, struggling to keep a smile off her face. “I personally think you could pull off being a girl if we just added a _touch_ of makeup – AHHH!”

The other’s laughter echoed around Lyra and Draco as Lyra darted around the corridor, trying to evade Draco as he raced after her. It only came to a stalemate when Lyra jumped on Harry’s back, wrapping her limbs around him tightly. Draco refused to attack his boyfriend, something that greatly irritated Lyra even much later in life. But it didn’t matter, because they were nearly graduated. They all finally had the opportunity to start their lives without the shadow of darkness hanging over them – and they intended to grasp it with both hands.

***

The Burrow was alive with activity, even more so than usual. Redheads dominated the backyard, of course, but the occasional blond or brunette or dark head of hair could be found amongst the guests. It was meant to be a joint party for Lyra, Draco and Harry, who were leaving for France at the end of the week and wouldn’t be back for – well, who knew?

Pansy and Blaise drifted among the crowd, delightfully displaying the gleaming ring on the dark-haired girl’s finger to anyone who was interested. Yes, that was still somewhat surprising to Lyra, who had been there when Blaise had panic-called her about ring shopping. As she held a glass of Arthur’s newest alcoholic concoction – which was surprisingly good despite the questionable origins – Lyra observed her friends and newfound family. Both she and Draco had unofficially been adopted into the Weasley clan, with Molly exclaiming tearfully that Harry and George couldn’t have found better partners, something that made both Lyra and Draco quite smug, to the exasperation of the others. Her brother in question was currently talking to their mother and aunt, young Teddy held on his hip. Harry was nowhere in sight but Lyra knew that he wouldn’t be too far away from his boyfriend. Honestly, those two were like magnets sometimes. _Her_ boyfriend, on the other hand, was nowhere to be found. A frown formed as she scanned the crowd again, probably missing him in the excessive redheads.

“If you continue frowning like that, you’ll get wrinkles,” a misty voice suddenly said from beside her.

Lyra jumped slightly and turned to see Luna standing next to her, wearing a very pretty white and holding a steaming drink.

“Where did you hear that from?” Lyra asked to cover her surprise.

“You say it often to Draco,” the younger girl revealed. “I’m not surprised, considering the people he has to deal with. They can be quite a handful.”

“I hope I’m not included in that grouping,” Lyra said, absently massaging out the furrow between her brows.

“Of course not,” Luna said earnestly. “As his twin, you are his perfect pair. Draco will never not need you. I find it quite lovely, actually. I would have liked to have a sibling to love as much as Draco loves you.”

Lyra smiled softly and took a small sip of her drink. It was actually quite strong, as Charlie had already revealed earlier in a whisper as they gleefully watched Percy down a cup.

“I love Draco very much as well,” she told Luna. “I’m not quite sure what I would do without him.”

“You would survive,” stated Luna wisely. “I doubt you would ever feel complete, but you would survive. You’re much stronger than you think you are.”

“Thank you, Luna,” Lyra replied, not sure how actually to respond to that. Luckily for her, Ginny appeared and dragged Luna off to dance. The youngest Weasley had finally started to become less icy towards Harry, Draco and Lyra, although Lyra blamed Luna’s influence on that.

“There you are,” a soft voice said in her eye a moment before warm hands wrapped around her waist from behind. “I thought you might have been caught up in whatever mess is happening over there.”

Lyra smiled as George pressed a kiss to her cheek.

“It seems that Blaise has somehow managed to insult Bill’s gnome-throwing abilities,” Lyra explained. “Ron and Hermione appear to have started taking score.”

“Maybe I ought to have a go,” pondered George. “Fred and I were always the best at that.”

“I heard a rumour that Harry beat your best at twelve,” Lyra said cheekily. “Anyone, we all know I would win. I’m the best Chaser here, maybe aside from Ginevra.”

“You know she hates you calling her that,” George grinned.

“Even more reason to do so,” reasoned Lyra.

George spun her around until she faced him and replaced his hands around her waist. One hand rose to play absently with a loose strand of her hair that was curling slightly in the heat.

“I’m going to miss you when you’re away,” he admitted, tugging gently on the strand.

Lyra rolled her eyes at him. “You’re acting like you won’t be joining us in France the next day,” she said.

George shrugged unapologetically. “True. But I won’t always be able to get away from work to meet you wherever you end up.”

“That’s why you should have hired those extras I told you to,” Lyra chided. “Anyway, isn’t Ron going to be working at the store. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind covering for a week or so every so often.”

“He has a life too, you know,” George pointed out.

“No, he won’t,” countered Lyra, pressing a quick kiss to George’s lips. “Hermione is continuing to study. That man will have so much free time he won’t have anything better to do.”

George hummed in thought and raised his eyes over Lyra’s shoulders, most likely searching out his youngest brother.

“You make a good argument,” George finally said with a smirk.

“Of course, I do,” Lyra scoffed. “I was practically bred to get what I want.”

“And you want me?” George said in a sly voice.

“Always,” Lyra purred lowly, not bothering to hide the sincerity of her words.

“Then I think it’s time for us to leave, darling,” George whispered in her ear, causing a shiver to run down her spine.

Lyra grinned at him and pecked him on the cheek before pulling out of his arms.

“One moment,” she said, before marching off in search of her brother. Thankfully, he was easy to spot, as Harry was standing beside him and it was always a simple task to pick Harry’s mess of hair out in a crowd.

“Draco, darling, I’m afraid I’ll be leaving early,” Lyra announced as she glided up to them. “Do give my best to mother and Mrs and Mr Weasley.”

“Where are you going?” Draco asked, batting Harry’s hand away as it snuck towards the plate he was holding.

“Yeah, it’s only been like two hours, Lyra. You can’t leave yet,” Harry added, successfully stealing one of Draco’s many snacks. Her brother glowered at his boyfriend and angrily stuffed a pastry into his own mouth.

“It’s been three, actually,” corrected Lyra. “And I’m going to go get railed by my boyfriend. I’m sure no one wants to see that – well, maybe Blaise but there’s definitely something wrong with that man.”

Lyra’s comment caused both Draco and Harry to choke on their mouthfuls, surrounding people glancing over at them in worry.

“Enjoy!” Lyra said brightly, kissing them both on the cheek and skipping away. “Ta, ta, darlings!”

“Lyra, get back here!”

“You can’t just _say_ that!”

Lyra ignored their shouts and hurried back to George, holding out her hand for him.

“Shall we?” she asked him with a large smirk.

“You better not have signed my death warrant,” George said as he gathered her up in his arms tightly.

“Of course, not,” Lyra scoffed. “They’d never cross me.”

The last thing they saw before they Apparated was Draco and Harry’s red faces as they glared at the pair in horror.

***

“Ready?” Draco asked, holding out the slightly crushed tin that was serving as their Portkey.

Beside him, Harry and Lyra nodded their heads and reached forward to each grab hold of the Portkey.

“Let’s go cause some havoc,” Lyra said with a bright smile.

“I’m not bailing you out of jail,” Harry said evenly. “Draco yes, but not you.”

“Bastard, I have enough money to bail myself out of jail,” Lyra huffed.

“Ten seconds, now,” Draco interrupted. “Remember to close your mouth this time, Harry.”

“Honestly, Draco, that was one time – “

Harry’s response was cut off by the Portkey activating. The familiar tugging sensation wrapped around Draco’s navel as, together, they disappeared towards the start of their new lives.


	9. Chapter Nine - Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was just a little idea of mine that I couldn't resist writing. It has actually taken me ages because I lost motivation and then I had new ideas and couldn't put them into words. I genuinely hope you enjoyed it - share it with your friends! 
> 
> PS: if anyone can draw hit me up cus I want to put scenes onto paper but I can't even draw a crooked stick man
> 
> Also I'm sobbing *peace sign*

Lyra absentmindedly traced over her left forearm, the constellations standing out stark against the faded image of the Dark Mark. Even after nearly two decades, the brand had never fully faded. But that didn’t matter anymore, for new memories covered the old scar.

Those new memories were currently causing the adults many headaches as Lyra looked upon the chaotic scene in amusement.

“It’s just not possible!” Scorpius was saying loudly. “There’s no way _dad_ rode a dragon!”

“I think dad could do it,” James argued loyally.

“ _That’s_ what you have a problem with?” Callisto scoffed, flicking the long blond hair she had inherited from her mother and uncle over her shoulder. She turned to her twin, “Ori, thank Merlin we got the smarts of the family.”

Orion nodded in agreement beside her, feet propped up in Teddy’s lap. The eighteen-year-old was following the conversation with the same enthusiasm he usually showed at Quidditch matches.

“Uncle Harry, I believe you,” Callisto continued. “Unlike Scorp, I actually know you rode a dragon. Dad told me and Ori all about it years ago!”

Lyra turned accusatory eyes on her husband, who shrugged unapologetically. She had not been impressed when her children had begun asking if they too could ride a dragon like Uncle Harry, Uncle Ron and Aunt ‘Mione.

“That’s not fair!” Scorpius shouted. “Father refuses to tell us _anything_ about that!”

“Your father and I have our reasons for that, Scorp,” Harry said quickly.

“And if you don’t start behaving, you won’t get another story again,” Draco threatened as he walked into the room, arms ladened with a tray of new drinks.

“Oh, thank Merlin,” Ron muttered from next to Lyra. “I was beginning to worry they had run out.”

Lyra snorted and adjusted the sleeping child on her lap to accept a drink from her brother. Draco and Harry’s youngest was only four but already looked like a spitting image of them both, with Harry’s messy hair and Draco’s silver eyes. Scorpius and James, however, were the perfect opposite, both sporting gleaming white-blond hair, and bright green eyes.

Lyra felt somewhat sorry for Minerva McGonagall, she couldn’t imagine the chaos that would follow having not one but two sets of twins with Malfoy, Potter and Weasley blood in them as well Ron and Hermione’s eldest, Rose, arrive at Hogwarts this coming September. Perhaps Lyra should send a lovely bottle of whiskey in apology.

“Dad! Dad!” James was yelling. “Tell us more about Fluffy, please? Does Hagrid still have him?”

“Of course not,” Lyra told the children quickly. “And I don’t want to hear about any of you searching for three-headed dogs, got it?”

“But mother – “

“Aunt Lyra!”

“No,” Lyra said sternly. “Our generation dealt with far too much. You lot are just going to enjoy school and stay safe.”

“There’s nothing there to hurt us now, anyway,” Orion said, glancing up from his book to address his mother. “Thanks to Uncle Harry and everyone.”

Lyra turned to glare at Harry, who blanched and said defensively, “I only told them a little, okay? I thought they should know before everyone started asking them questions.”

“We’ll deal with this later, Potter,” Lyra said seriously. Lily had begun to shift in Lyra’s arms so she handed her glass to Ron as she attempted to settle the tired toddler. “You won’t cause us any trouble, will you, darling?” she cooed.

“Rethinking having more children?” Hermione asked from the armchair across from Lyra.

“Merlin, no,” Lyra said, ignoring the relieved sigh coming from her husband. “Two is more than enough.”

“Especially considering that we usually end up with five,” George added, swooping down to kiss Lyra’s cheek. “I don’t understand why you all keep dumping your spawn on us.”

“It’s because you own a joke store, Uncle George,” James said seriously from his place on the floor. He had pressed himself up against his father’s legs as Draco sat in the armchair opposite Hermione. “Father says that you have the resources to deal with us all.”

“Traitor,” Draco hissed to his son, affectionately rubbing James’ hair to take the sting out of the word.

“I personally like Aunt ‘Mione’s library,” Orion inputted. Lyra couldn’t help but smirk at the way Callisto rolled her eyes at her brother. She knew exactly which of the two was going to cause the most issues. “Ours doesn’t have that many non-fiction books.”

Lyra frowned slightly at that. “We can get some, Orion,” she told her son, who shook his blond head at her.

“No need,” he said happily. “I have Aunt ‘Mione’s.”

Lyra knew it was a pointless battle to try to reason with her son on that topic so instead, she turned to her brother.

“Draco, darling, I was thinking of buying Minerva a bottle of that expensive whiskey Andromeda likes,” she said pointedly.

“Good idea,” Draco replied, reaching out a hand to thread through Harry’s hair as his husband lowered himself beside their son. “Aunt Andie remains the only person I know that can even attempt to outdrink Minerva.”

"True that!" Teddy guffawed.

“Don’t worry about her,” Ron said gleefully. “Neville and Harry will watch out for our demon children. Minnie will practically have to do nothing.”

“Except dish out the punishments when they get caught,” Draco muttered behind a sip of his drink.

Lyra snorted and smiled fondly at the large collection of children gathered at their feet. It seemed unreal to think that in a short month’s time, they would all be going off to Hogwarts, with the exception of Ron and Hermione’s youngest, Hugo. Thankfully, Harry had finally agreed to take the Defence job after the previous professor had retired. It had taken the joint efforts of Draco, Lyra, Hermione _and_ Minerva to convince Harry to give up control of his flight school to someone else.

“You can always go back if you hate teaching,” Hermione had reasoned and Harry had finally run out of arguments.

Meanwhile, Lyra and Draco’s joint Potions and Alchemy business was flourishing more than ever, a fact that had been the determining factor for Harry, for Draco could remain at their Hogsmeade home to take care of Lily while Lyra took full control of the business.

The shadows of the war were distant memories in their minds and as Lyra looked upon her family - the one that they had fought for, that people had died for - she realised that she would never change anything. She would willingly go through everything she had if it meant she ended up at this moment right now, surrounded by her beloved children, husband, brother, nieces and nephews, and friends.

“What are you smiling at?” George asked her, wrapping his arms around her from behind.

“I’m just happy,” Lyra replied truthfully.

“So am I,” George said.

And at long last, the peace they had struggled for had been achieved…and all was well.


End file.
